Fighting for Life
by leanmean
Summary: Chapter...14? I say yes. Just a few chapters left now.
1. Chapter 1

New story idea in the mix, only had time to write a prologue-I know I'm notorious for starting stories and then never finishing them, but I promise to actually write this one! That is, of course, if you're interested. Let me know in your reviews por favor :) As always, I own nothing.. except the deer! I claim the deer!

_SMC 1/16/12 _

_I was eleven the first time I met death. Half listening to mom laugh about a mix up in patient procedures, I caught the faint reflection of soft eyes in the distance through the windshield. In the instant it took me to register the deer standing along the roadside, its time had come to pass. With one slow graceful leap, the soft eyes in the darkness became nothing more than a fine red mist dampening the glow of a semi's twin taillights. In one passing thought, it was gone._

_ When I think back to that day, I remember wondering, is this it? Really? A single moment of life, and then, what? oblivion? Mom had always said that life was what you made of it. In fact, it was her basic reasoning behind the hours of studying and extracurriculars she forced me to do even at the age of eleven. Life is what you make of it Spencer. _

_ When asked about my favorite childhood memories, I'd have a hard time throwing the ghastly explosion of an animal in the mix, but, it is a moment that sticks out among all the rest. It was the day I realized that life is, and then, just as quickly, it isn't. It was the day I started fighting for life, rather than letting it fight me. But, above all else, it was the day I started looking for you._


	2. Chapter 2

SO, in case it's not clear, the italics portions are Spencer's journal. or something. and the regular format is real-time. Hope you're all having a greeat day! I own Maybe in this one.

_SMC 1/18/12_

_Ever person is born with a purpose._

_The man who drives the bus that took you to work this morning, he helps make society run a little smoother. The burly tattoo artist who growls at people in the street but treats his employees like his own children, he gives the gift of family in a cold city of acquaintances. The doctor, like my mother, who saves and loses lives every day, they do their best to keep the odds on this side of life, rather than whatever is on the other. _

_No matter the shape or the size, every person has a purpose. They tie us together. They tear us apart._

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><p>Maybe Jones, the receptionist at L.A. Health and Wellness, meets me at the side door this morning when I get to work. Though I only hired Maybe less than three months ago, the girl had an uncanny sense for my geographic location. Or, in a much creepier scenario, she stands at that exact spot by the side door for hours every morning, graciously waiting my arrival. I choose to think it's the first one, so I can actually sleep with both eyes shut when I go home.<p>

"Good morning Miss Maybe!" I say, "what's on the agenda this wonderful Wednesday?"

"Oh the usual, Miss Spencer," Maybe starts, falling in step beside me. "A couple hours of dramatic television programming followed promptly by a four course fondue luncheon."

I laugh. L.A. Health and Wellness has a reputation for being the most intense, life-changing health center on the West Coast, and we work really hard to maintain that persona. Most of the clientele leave crying. Actually, most of the trainers do, too.

"It seems," she continues, "you're back into your one-on-one schedule, so I should have a sheet in here with your day somewhere…" Maybe flips through a few pages in her hands, pursing her lips.

When I tell people I'm a personal trainer, they immediately ask me about my secret to six pack abs, or how to lose those pesky pounds that always seem to hang around their upper thighs. I tell them there are no secrets, it's just a lot of work, and they nod their heads with knowing smiles, sure that I'm just giving them a hard time. When I begin to explain to them that being healthy isn't necessarily all beach bodies and spray-on tans, they start to look a bit skeptical. By the time I liken my job to that of a psychiatrist, they've backed away so sneakily slow that I look up at where they once were and barely make them out as little more than a dark smudge against the horizon.

You see, being healthy isn't just physical, and that's where those people get it wrong. It's absolutely mental. In fact, it's almost entirely mental. Explain to someone that you're going to help them lose weight by picking apart their brain, and you'll find a real effective way to be alone forever. But, it's the truth, as I see it, and it's also what I adore about my job. People come to me for help, and by the time they leave, they're able to help themselves.

"Oh, here it is," Maybe lists off her clipboard as I push open the door to my office. "You have a new client interview at 10 and then your afternoon is free, which," she looks around the cluttered space with one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised, "I would strongly suggest you use to do something about these papers, girl."

I collapse into my chair and watch the stack of junk on my desk slide dramatically off onto the floor. "Yeah, I could probably use a little order in my life," I laugh, nudging what was left of my inbox onto the floor with the rest of it. "There," I smile. "Clean."

Shaking her head, Maybe slips a sheet of paper onto my newly vacant desk and gives me a wave as she heads out the door, no doubt to heckle the other trainers arriving for the day. Laughing to myself, I pull up a new word document and type into the computer:

**Client: Kyla A. Davies**

**Information: L.A. Native, First time client**

**Current Weight: 245 lbs**

**Goal Weight: 135 lbs**

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><p><em>The night I saw the deer get pulverized by the semi, my mom was driving me home from soccer. I was a forward and a darn good one. I would play all through high school and, eventually, in college. Having two older brothers had given me a lot of reasons to run at that age, although whether I was running in play or running for my life is another matter entirely. At any rate, constant exercise had made me strong and quick on my feet, a skill not many of the other 11 year olds had fully developed. Most of the other girls could keep up well enough, except for one: Sara.<em>

_There were a lot of things I didn't understand about Sara. My mom told me her parents were breaking up. That Sara was passed from house to house, but that neither house sat down for dinner like ours did; they had take out or drive thru or ice cream for dinner every night, which didn't sound so bad to me. Then there was the stuff I found out later, that mom didn't tell me: that Sara wasn't on the soccer team because she loved the sport like I did, but rather because it was a few more hours she got to be around people who didn't scream or ignore her. In a lot of ways, I thought choosing to be with the soccer team was far worse. There may not have been a lot of things I could understand about Sara, but the day I forgot my bag and found her crying in a pile on the floor in the locker room, I knew she was in pain. And, the next day when one of the other girls called her Chunky Monkey out on the field and I slide tackled that girl into the dirt; I knew Sara knew she was no longer alone. _

_Every day for the rest of the season, and then in the winter, the spring, and every season after, Sara and I stayed late to run drills together. She became the girl everybody asked to the senior prom, then the girl who skipped it to stay home with me because I had mono. She still laughs when I show up at her door with a tub of Chunky Monkey ice cream for our monthly movie nights. _

_ When I think back to that broken girl sobbing on the concrete of the locker room floor, I wonder, if I wasn't here, would Sara still be? And where would I be without her? It was Sara who gave me my first purpose. _

_ Sometimes it takes a village to put a broken person back together again, but they're always strongest at the seams sewn by more hands than just their own._


	3. Chapter 3

Back again! Well, I hope you find this entertaining. Thanks to you wonderful reviewers out there, I appreciate the kind words. Now back to the story! I own Mr. Tiggs in this one. :)

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><p>Kyla<p>

"Ashley, I'm heading out now!" I slip on my shoes and peek around the corner to where Ashley is sprawled on my leather couch, Sportsnation blaring over the surround sound. Sometimes I regret giving her the spare key to my place, but on mornings like today when I wake up to pancakes, well that's not so bad. Her frazzled curls pop up over the couch back.

"Where are you going Kyla? I thought we were gonna chill today?"

"We'll hang out when I get back, ok? I'm just gonna be gone for a few hours."

When I first mentioned losing some of the excess weight I'd gained over the past few years, Ashley laughed and told me she thought I was beautiful. Now, that's a really sweet thing to say, but I truly want to work towards being healthier. I want a long future with her and the rest of my family. And so I decided that, when I finally found a center I like, I'd keep it a secret until I was ready. I know she'd always support me, but I feel like, in this case, it's something I really need to do for me, by myself.

"Dad's stopping by later," I continue, "so you can hang with him if I'm not back."

Ashley stares at me blankly for a beat, probably trying to decide how badly she wants to know where I'm headed. Finally, she shrugs. "Alright, be safe, have fun. Oh!" she continues, "bring home Cheezits maybe?"

That girl and her cheese.

"If you're good," I wink and she smiles and waves me out the door, settling back in to watch ESPN.

The L.A. Health & Wellness Center is a squat brick building tucked into the rocks and shrubbery of the Pacific Coastline. Its webpage suggested that it was a _private and secluded retreat for finding a healthier you. _By the time I drove through the security gate and down the two mile driveway, I started to feel like maybe secluded was a nice way to say no one will hear you scream.

Supposedly, this place is the real deal. It's pretty hard to get an appointment with, so I was pleasantly surprised when I called and was set up for 10 o' clock with Spencer. I think I'd be more comfortable with a girl, but I guess as long as I'm here and working with someone, that's all that matters.

Running my fingers through my hair, I push through the glass doors and walk up to the red head behind the reception desk. "Hi, I'm Kyla Davies. I have an appointment with Spencer at 10."

"Oh Kyla," the red head reaches out to shake my hand. "I'm Maybe. Welcome to L.A. Health & Wellness! We're so happy you chose to come see us today." She clicks around the side of the desk and beckons me to follow. "If you come with me, I'll take you right to Spencer's door."

"Well what service!" I smile and fall in step beside her. The hallway is painted with a black and white mural of chiseled bodies and smiling faces. Every office door is an electric color. "This is quite some art," I say, admiring the image of a young woman with defined back muscles, reaching towards the sun.

"Yes, here at the center we really like to think of sweating as a form of art. It's kind of a new age school of thought, I guess, but we're pretty new age people," Maybe says with a warming smile.

We stop outside of a bright red door with a copper plate that says SPENCER in fine italics and then, in a sloppier scratching right after the name, an apostrophe and an s. Under the plate is a well taped post it note with the word LAIR in black permanent marker, highlighted with doodled red flames and flailing stick figures. Maybe notices my staring and clears her throat.

"Spencer is one of our best trainers," she says. Opening the door, she sweeps me in with a wink. "She's just a little outside of the box."

"Wait, she?" I interrupt, but Maybe's already closed the door. I turn and, for the first time, come face to face with Spencer Carlin.

Forget about thinking outside of the box, Spencer is a spectacle in her own skin. Long blonde hair and intensely blue eyes, she looks as solid as the brick building she works in, and yet, as wild as the waves crashing at its back door. Her hair is smoothed down over her shoulder and she's dressed in fitted black workout gear, but her professional appearance can barely tame the passion that seems to glow from under her skin.

"Kyla," she says with a smile, coming around her desk to lead me to the cracked leather seat in front of her desk. "It's so nice to meet you. I hope you're as excited as I am," she adds, returning to the seat behind her desk.

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks. "I'm very excited to be here today Spencer. I'm sorry I seem a little out of sorts, I was just, well," I chuckle, "I was under the impression that you were a guy is all."

A chuckle bubbles out of Spencer and bounces across the desk, warming my cold feet, "you would not believe how often that happens," she says, shaking her head. "At any rate, I hope you're not disappointed. I usually like to take this initial interview to get to know you, and to decide whether we're a good fit for each other. So," she continues. "First thing's first, I'm a girl. Okay! You're turn! Tell me a little about yourself," she says, folding her hands in front of her on the desk.

"Well," I say, "I, too, am a girl. My name is Kyla Davies. I live in West L.A. I work at a public relations firm and I really love my job because I get to interact with people all day."

"That's a good start." Spencer says, "My name is Spencer, of course. I live like five minutes from here actually. I've been a personal trainer since I was 23, so about four years now. I have a dog named Mr. Tiggs." She flips around a frame on her desk and a floppy hairball with giant fuzzy eyebrows appears, intently trying to bite the camera. She smiles down at the picture and adds, "he's slightly manic."

"He does appear perhaps a little excited."

"He gets it from his mama."

"You know," I say, "I kind of got that impression from the sign on your door that says lair. Did you add the apostrophe s to your nameplate? What is that copper?"

"Brass even!" Spencer exclaims. "No one appreciates how long it took me to scratch that in with a paper clip! Seriously, it took at least two weeks!"

I laugh and look around her office. It's small and cluttered, single weights and lengths of rope laying everywhere. Next to her desk there seems to be a gigantic stack of loose papers that someone covered with a table runner and topped with a potted fern. The poster on the deep blue wall behind Spencer's head says high lord emperor in thick gold font.

"It may not look like much right now," she says, watching me study the place, "but I swear if Maybe hadn't made me return the flame shooters this office would be bomb. I still don't believe that she's actually allergic to brimstone. How does someone even figure that out?"

"That may be a question neither of us want to know that answer to," I say, images of demons and witchcraft popping up in my mind. "So, what did you do before you opened your own lair?"

Spencer rolls her eyes, "software consultant. I'm sure you can see how that would've worked out. I have an awful attention span. I'm not really even sure what I graduated college in, honestly." She reaches into her side drawer and pulls out a picture of her, cheek to cheek with a brown haired girl, smiling. "Soccer, maybe? It's all I really cared about. Well, that and Sara. We've been friends since elementary."

"Oh, how cool. I only talk to a few of my old high school friends still, but I don't really have a best friend." I think back to this morning. "Well, maybe my sister, but only on good days. Do you have any siblings?"

"I have two brothers. My whole family lives here in L.A., so I get to see them all the time. Is your family around here too?"

"Yeah, they're all here. They all travel a lot but this is home base. We've had a rough couple of years so we're working on hanging out more and treating each other better."

Spencer nods slowly, her blue eyes intently studying my face.

"Well Kyla," she says. "I think I would very much enjoy working with you and getting to know you more personally... if that is something you would want too. I just want you to be completely comfortable and committed to this decision before we start our journey together. So," she stands and walks around her desk, "take a minute and think it over, and I'll just run down the hall to give you some privacy."

I jump with a start as the shrill squeak of rubber on tile startles me, laughing to myself as I realize Spencer meant literally run down the hall. I stand up and wander around Spencer's office, trying to get a better feel of this girl who could be the one to help me on this very personal struggle. I mean I didn't even tell Ashley about this. I have to pick the exact right person if I'm going to do this.

Standing behind Spencer's desk I notice a to-do list under a magnet on the side of her filing cabinet. The list read, _dog food_ and _tell Maybe to file hours_. Under that, _go clothes shopping with mom _was crossed out and replaced with _Mr. Tiggs tank top? _The list wrapped up with _be awesome_ underlined three times. At the bottom of the page a doodled stick man with a knife between his teeth grappled up the side of a building.

Clearly this girl was insane. But, in the same breath, I liked her.

"So!" Spencer exclaims, popping her head around the door. "Did you decide?"

"I have," I nodded, totally sure of the commitment I was making. "I would love to work with you, Spencer."

I covered my ears in shock as the air horn sounded down the hallway, chased by Spencer yelling "SHE SAID YES, MAYBE!" Hustling into the room with two inches of paperwork under her arm, she plops them on her desk and tosses a handful of confetti over my head. "I'm so glad you said yes Kyla! I really really wanted you to pick me, NOW! Let's get down to this paper work," she rambles, flipping papers towards me while digging in her drawer for pens. Finally, she looks up and realizes I haven't moved, or blinked, or maybe even taken a breath since she came in.

"Kyla," she says slowly. "I promise to put the air horn away for an indefinite amount of time if you take a breath for me, dear."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "So is this protocol for new clients?"

Spencer blinks at me blankly, then turns and jots something on her to-do list. "You know, I was just doing that for you but you may be on to something there."

Signing the dotted line on the papers in front of me, I meet Spencer's eyes and smile. "Well, we've got a lot of time to discuss your ideas."

* * *

><p>Spencer<p>

By the time Kyla and I finished all her paperwork, it was almost one, so I shooed her out the front door and pulled up a rolling office chair behind the front desk. Maybe is bent over her work, intently focused on not noticing my presence. She underestimates me.

"Maybe."

"Spence."

"Whatchyadoin?"

Maybe sighs. "I'm working, Spencer."

"Oh." I drum my fingers along the edge of her desk. The clock ticks.

"So how's that going?" I add.

Maybe puts down her pen and turns to face me. "Spencer. Don't you have work to do?"

"Didn't you hear me yell? Kyla signed with me. We have our first session tomorrow."

"Ah," Maybe says, sitting back in her chair with a grin. "Was that that god awful noise?"

"I'm sorry; did you mean my voice or the air horn? Choose wisely Maybe, it may be your last choice…. Ever." I crack my knuckles menacingly and try to look wider.

"Okay, one. The only way I could possibly be afraid of is if you're sitting there with a spider in your hand, which you're not, because I saw you sitting on your desk last week when you thought you saw one on the floor. And two, you like this Kyla girl huh?"

I roll closer to Maybe and point my finger in her face. "Look here buddy, that "spider" you're talking about was almost as big as my dog." I roll back and prop my feet up on her desk. "And yeah, I really like Kyla, but, not like that so don't go there. She reminds me of Sara. I think we're going to be great friends."

"Mhm," Maybe adds, eyebrow quirked, turning back to her paperwork. After a beat she looks up at me, "you know, Sara is off and married, raising babies Spence. Maybe it's time you start thinking about doing that too."

Sara has been married for two years to a really great guy named Chad. At first I hated it because Chad took all my Sara time, but I've adjusted now, and I suppose he's not so bad to have around. They actually already adopted two kids, Linden, who is 9, and Luke, who is 7. Sara always planned on having her own kids, but she's a teacher, and when she realized the little blonde girl in her class lived in a shelter downtown, she and Chad went to fill out the adoption papers the next day. Sara says I spoil them rotten, but every kid should have laser tag in their basement, so I think her standards are a little skewed.

"Maybe, Maybe. Maybe." I say with a grin, picking up my bag and heading towards the door.

Maybe laughs, shaking her head. "Still not funny, Spence."

* * *

><p>Kyla<p>

"Ash! Are you here?" I push the front door shut and throw my keys in the bowl by the door, my voice echoing quietly through the dark halls of my condo. I flip on the lights in the kitchen looking for the note explaining why Ashley's car here but she isn't. Sure enough, tucked under an empty Snapple bottle is a yellow napkin with _Maui with Dad _scrawled across it. I open the fridge and grab the leftover Chinese from last night, flipping out the lights on my way to the couch. Ashley has been hanging out here a lot lately, and I have grown to enjoy her company, or at least, I've grown to appreciate not being lonely as often. Course even when she is here, she's not really. The bubbly Ashley I've always known hasn't walked through my door in years. But maybe that just comes with growing up or something. I mean, we're all alone really... right?


	4. Chapter 4

Dear anyone who reads this, I apologize for a rather lengthy delay. My job went from cake to crazy in about 15 minutes one day 4 weeks ago. But I'm back! This update is shorter than I want it to be, but I wanted to get Ashley in the picture at least. Longer coming.

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><p><em>There are some moments that sneak up on you. They come and go in an instant and you never feel the shift, but years later, the world you knew before it, was nothing compared to the world that blossomed after. The day the person you are meets the person you could be… everything changes.<em>

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><p>Spencer<em><br>_

"Alright let's do a little investigating here…."Cracking open the fridge, I bury my face in it. "We've got your condiments, your leftovers, your alcohol, a jar of pizza sauce, half a bagel on a napkin, string cheese... I'm sorry Kyla. Did you say you lived here or am I in a frat house by mistake?"

Kyla mumbles something from the next room over so I pull my head out of the fridge, close the door, and immediately throw myself against it yelling; the curly-headed girl whose nose just brushed mine quirks her eyebrow and grins slyly, tucking a curl behind her ear.

"Did you just say my sweet miss piggy?" husks the girl, tipping her head to the side with amusement. "I'm pretty sure you just said my sweet miss piggy on your way up the fridge there."

Oh, a jokester, eh. Unclenching the hand that's clinging to my shirt collar, I clear my throat and step closer to the girl. "I offer no apologies for what comes out of these lips when in fight or flight mode, strange girl in Kyla's kitchen." The girl laughs and steps around me, reaching to straighten the pictures knocked astray in my effort to scale the fridge. The one in her hand is of her and Kyla, playfully sticking their tongues out at the camera while squeezing each other tight.

"Well I guess you must lurk here often if you get your picture on the fridge. I must say, you're extraordinarily skilled at it." I pop up on the counter and cross my ankles.

The girl chuckles throatily and pops herself up on the bar across from me, folding her ankles beneath her. "I may or may not be Kyla's sister. The jury's still kind of out on that in my mind at least. I'm Ashley."

Reaching across the space between us, I grasp her hand and smile, "Spencer."

"ASHLEY!"

In the second I went from smiling into Ashley's eyes to laying under her on the kitchen floor, I'm not entirely sure where Kyla came from, but, man, can these Davies girls sneak up on a person.

"Good lord Kyla, I'm a foot away from you! Why did you just yell!" Ashley says, rubbing the side of her ear. Her body, warm and soft on top of my chest, starts to shake as my own laughter rumbles out of me. "What are you laughing at blondie!" she adds, tapping my cheek with a smile and sitting up on the floor beside me.

"Seriously, I'm going to put bells on both of you." I say, rubbing my head and looking up at Kyla. "Kyla, what the hell do you eat. That fridge is pathetic. We're going to the store right now."

"Thaaaat's a great idea Spencer," Kyla hesitates picking up her keys and then grabs my hand, yanking me behind her. "Ashley you can stay here and we'll be right back!"

As the front door slams behind us I hear "Kyla! What about "us" time!" as Kyla breaks into a jog for her car, squealing "GET IN SPENCER! IN!"

I barely get the door slammed shut as Kyla flips it in reverse and tears out of the driveway, leaving a dejected Ashley waving from the doorway in the rear view mirror. I glance at Kyla as she clears her throat and readjusts her mirror.

"Soo is there a reason why you just rushed me out of there Miss Kyla?"

My question hangs in the air as Kyla drives up on the highway on ramp, clearing her throat.

"My sister, Ashley…she is the best thing I could ever ask for." Kyla starts, reaching over to click off the radio. "She's always there for me, no matter what we've been through, she just…she loves me. It's been Kyla and Ashley for as long as I can remember. But, I don't want her to know that you're helping me lose weight. Because I know she'll support me or whatever, but I need to be able to do this as Kyla. Not Kyla and Ashley. I need to help me be stronger on my own."

"Alright." I nod, looking out the window. "Wait, who does that make me then?"

"You're my new co-worker," Kyla says, thoughtfully looking out the window. "Ashley has no idea what I do, you'll be fine trust me. The minute someone says work her eyes glaze over."

"Public Relations… Well, I assume the public is involved, and also maybe some..relating?" I think everything I know about public relations could easily fit inside a thimble. "Isn't that what people like Kim Kardashian need?"

Kyla laughs and nods, "yes, that's exactly right. We work with film stars, musicians, athletes, and others on creating good public images for themselves."

"Oh geez, I bet that's a full time job."

"You have no idea. Well I guess you do, actually, since you work with me now. You're gonna be fine no worries."

We pull into a spot at the store as Kyla turns to me, turning off the car.

"Spencer. Thanks for being so awesome. I know we just met, but I'm so happy I'm getting to know you."

I blow the bangs out of my eyes, and wave her off. "Oh quit it, you. I'll throw up all over my sneakers if you keep this up. Now, let's go get some VEGETABLES!"

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><p>Ashley<p>

So there's this girl, right? Who just shows up out of the blue and is apparently my sister's bff in the whole world, and I've never even heard the name Spencer once in my whole lifetime, let alone from Kyla. The two of them chatter loudly in the kitchen as Spencer struggles to throw out Chinese leftovers over Kyla's frame blocking the trash can. I whistle quietly as I enter the kitchen, the bar area covered in produce and weird looking organic stuff.

"Ashley, tell your sister Chinese goes bad after three days. You cannot kill germs by microwaving an extra minute after a week in the fridge. "

Kyla turns to me for support and Spencer banks the leftovers off the wall and into the trash, pumping her fist to an imaginary crowd in the living room.

"Spencer you are NO FUN! I can't even be a part of this!" Kyla whines, shooting me a glare as she huffs out of the kitchen to her room.

"She's going to pull that back out later you know," I say, laughing quietly as Spencer dances to the music in her head, putting veggies in the fridge drawers. The girl's got spunk, I'll give her that.

"Oh, I'm going to take that trash to the neighbor's bin if I have to," she says, tossing me an apple. "Snack?"

"Thanks," I add, hesitantly biting it. "How exactly do you and Kyla know each other again?"

Spencer pauses the steady chopping of the broccoli she's throwing in Tupperware. "We work together." The chopping resumes, joined with her quiet humming.

Kyla bringing work friends home? This is a first. Ever. It's always just been me and Kyla. It's kind of how we roll.

"Oh, well that's cool." I say, standing up from the bar and crossing behind the counter to stand beside Spencer. "You're welcome here any time," I add, with a smile, stealing a baby carrot from her oddly organized storing containers.

The corner of her mouth lifts in a shy grin as she nods, "thanks."

"No problem," I add. And the room gets a little bit brighter.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello my lovelies. Back again! Look how soon! Go me! Today's chapter is for Tanner12, who likes Spencer as much as I do. Reviews are always wonderful. Enjoy!

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><p>Sara<p>

"See Mr. Tiggs, wax on….wax off! It's so simple!"

"Spencer, tell me you are not teaching that dog how to clean windows."

"SARA!"

Two heads of crazy golden hair tear towards me, Spencer hurdling the couch, Mr. Tiggs knocking her over on the other side, successfully reaching me first. Ruffling his ears, I laugh as he shakes all over, yipping at the pile of Spencer he left on the wood floor.

"Tiggs wins today buddy." I give Spence a hand as she blows the bangs out of her eyes and then playfully pushes Tiggs away, pulling me into a warm hug.

"How are you Sara? I've missed you this week."

Gathering the bag of junk food Mr. Tiggs is snuffling and the handful of movies he knocked out of my hands, I follow Spencer into the kitchen and prop up on the bar stool as she starts pulling food out for dinner.

"Well, all week at the school I've been dealing with CAT testing, so that's horribly damn boring. Then I come home and my husband has been trying to help out around the house, God love him, so pretty much I can't find a single thing he's put away since he started "helping" last weekend."

Spencer eyes my sequined tank top and baggy sweat pants and laughs.

"Oh thank God, I thought you'd gone blind."

"I made stir fry on a hot plate yesterday because all of the pans have gone missing. This is my life. But, besides that, Luke and Linden are wonderful. I still can't believe they've been ours for a whole year. Time is just flying by." I think back to the curly headed kids I left fighting over pizza toppings at home. I hate how much of my time the school has been taking lately; I get to see Linden all day in class, but it seems like every time I come home they've still grown taller.

"Isn't it crazy?" Spencer says, "to think we're already one year down on the mandatory 'wait five years till buying them a drumset" contract! I still can't believe you made me sign an actual legal document…"

Laughing, I pick at the hummus and veggies plate she's throwing together.

"Spencer my children are going to high school, not starting a traveling band."

"Don't tell me you haven't always wanted to be a part of the Von Trapp family, Sara. We've lived together. I've heard you singing in the shower. You can't hide."

"That was one time! You made me watch The Sound of Music every other week for a whole summer!"

Spencer throws back her head and laughs, gathering the tray of snacks and starts towards the living room.

"It's not my fault you're the adult version of Liesl. Embrace it. I remember a time…" Spencer pauses, throwing in an assassin movie, then dramatically turns towards me, singing "…when you were sixteen going on seventeen!"

Collapsing on the soft brown leather couch, I flip the TV on and stare mutely at Spencer as she waltzes herself around the coffee table.

"Are you done now."

"I am." With a curtsy, she falls over on the couch next to me and reaches for the carrots, "I could have been a great Julie Andrews."

"You would be an interesting Julie Andrews, at least," I say, starting the movie. "Hey, how's work going for you?"

Spencer pauses mid hummus dip as a secret little smile plays on her lips.

"WHOOAA!" I say, ripping the food out of her reach. "What. Is that. Face."

"Well," Spencer starts, playing with Mr. Tiggs curls as he settles down next to her. "I have this new client named Kyla and she's so nice! And she's just… she's different. I haven't figured out why, but she is. I think you're gonna like her." Her blue eyes meet mine hesitantly, "so I was thinking maybe we could all go to dinner this weekend or something."

"Well, I think I could manage that," I say, knowing Spencer isn't quite telling the whole story. She always twirls her hair when she's worried. "So, just a new client?"

"Well, she has this sister…"

I laugh and nod my head. I can't even remember the last time Spencer was actually interested in someone, so this must be some girl. "That's more like it. Let's just make dinner here, then. It'll be fun."

Spencer smiles and grabs the plate back out of my hand. "Excellent, Sara. I know you'll like them. But one more thing…"

"Yes."

Spencer looks at my clothes with her eyebrows peaked. "You should let Linden dress you, so this particular train wreck can be averted."

Laughing, I focus in on the movie. "Jerk."

* * *

><p>Kyla<p>

"Alright Kyla, keep it up, ten more minutes and then we'll take a break."

Spencer's blonde ponytail whips around, caught in the breeze as the waves crash down beside us. After a full medical exam yesterday morning, my first workout has officially begun today, which has left us roughly a mile up shore from the wellness center. We're "taking in a little fresh air" as Spencer calls it, to which I'd like to add: and salt water, and sun burn, and two pounds of sand in my eyes. She's been talking my ear off as we power walk, which has made it a bit easier to ignore the rather uncomfortable cramp in my stomach.

"So then Mr. Tiggs took off like his tail was on fire, and don't you know it really was! I guess he got too close to the grill, which I had always thought maybe he avoided because he had like adverse feelings about turkey hot dogs, but nope. Fire fear."

"Spencer."

Spencer looks over at me with bright eyes, clearly enjoying the 7am beach time way more than I was. I should have known she was a morning person when she was waiting for me with a complimentary sweat band as I pulled in at 6:30 today.

"Miss Kyla."

"Can we not talk about hot dogs? I'm putting all my effort into not puking as it is."

"OH!" Spencer, skips ahead and turns to walk backwards in front of me. "Well, how about we talk about our workout plan, in a broad sense at least? I'm sure you're interested in knowing what's going to happen in the next few months."

I wipe the sweat off my brow and smile, "much better. Thanks."

"Alright," Spencer says, counting off thoughts on her fingers. "Well, first of all, if you actually wore the headband I got you that was AWESOME instead of throwing it in your car like a LOSER you wouldn't have sweat in your eyes. 2. For the first few weeks, we're going to ease you into working out again, since it's been a while since you've had regular activity, and that should keep you from injuring yourself or your muscles. THEN! I'm gonna build your foundation muscle, so think a lot of basic exercises that use large muscle groups, and a lot of cardio. Cardio is about to be your best friend, for real."

I scoff, trying to remember why I started this whole thing anyway. Screw cardio.

"Chin up Davies. Finally! I'm gonna get you ripped with interval training, which seems a long way away now, but I promise we'll get there. The real secret is, slow and steady, until you're ready, and then we'll pump it up. I don't want you to get burnt out, and lucky for us, I'm an expert at talking out of my ass, so at least it won't ever be quiet… unless you want me to be quiet, which I can practice."

Laughing, I watch Spencer wipe the bangs out of her eyes, then give me a thumbs up.

"I highly doubt you can be quiet, but, I'm going to make you try if any more hot dog stories come up, just so we're clear."

Spencer smiles and slaps me on the back, "you got it buddy. Now let's go take a breather on those rocks."

Settling down on the cool rocks I take a deep breath of ocean air and suck on the bottle of water she brought along. Day. One. Honestly, it kind of blows, but it's not like it can get worse? So, I guess I'll just stick with that mantra for now; tomorrow is bound to be better than today.

"So Spence, how was your week then? I can't believe it's already Friday."

Spencer, plops down on the rock beside me, handing me a second water bottle to drink. "Hydrate, you. I can't believe it's Friday either, actually. Sara and I had our movie night last night, and I almost forgot she was coming because I was stuck on Tuesday or something."

"Oh that sounds fun, how's Sara?"

"She's good, as always. Actually, Sara and I had talked and we were wondering if maybe you and Ashley would want to join us for dinner tomorrow night? Nothing fancy, just a girls' night at my house."

I giggle under my breath, seeing Spencer looking unsure for the first time since I met her.

"Spencer, we would love too. I mean, I'll have to actually check with Ashley, but I'm sure she would want to come. She thought you were a nice girl when you were over yesterday."

Spencer blushes and tucks a blonde hair behind her ear. I never thought she'd be the nervous type, but it's kind of endearing, the way she pushes the sand around with her foot while she asks what kind of food we like and when we usually eat.

"Well I suppose we should head back, Kyla. You're starting to resemble a rather angry tomato."

Standing up and brushing the sand off my legs, I start back towards the center, as Spencer jumps around singing and kicking up wave water, her hesitant former self clearly stowed away again. We make the trek back laughing and sharing stories, and before I know it, I'm sitting in my car, sore and a little uncomfortable, but excited. Excited for dinner tomorrow? Excited to be actually starting this process? Excited to go home and shower? It's really a toss-up, but it's a nice change. Watching Spencer wave intensely from the window of the center with Maybe rolling her eyes behind her, I can't help but feel like this is the first of many changes to come.

* * *

><p>Ashley<p>

Grapenuts? Smart Start? What the hell happened to Kyla's cereal! Where are the Lucky Charms! Sighing, I run my hands through my hair. Maybe in the cupboard by the stove…

… Well, Cheerios it is. I'm going to have to buy real food for my place if Kyla keeps grocery shopping with Spencer. Course if I actually spent time at my place I'd probably have something besides stuff for grilled cheese there… No, no I'd probably still just have that. I like cheese, what can I say.

Shuffling into the living room, I flip on Sportscenter and dig into my cereal. Kyla's shower is running, the soft sounds of her singing Selena Gomez drifting down the hall. It's only 9:30, why would Kyla be up already? Remembering the time I tried to wake her up at 10 and she hit me so hard with a pillow it dislocated my shoulder, I move to the corner of the couch, where there's a little more cover.

Ten minutes later, she shuffles out with her hair in a towel, humming and looking like she was just hard boiled.

"Kyla, what the hell happened to your skin?"

Gasping, she jumps, grabbing blindly for the umbrella in the corner.

"Dear God Ashley, could you maybe not do that next time? I almost had a heart attack."

Eyeing her warily, I follow her into the kitchen and set my bowl in the sink, then settle down on the counter to watch her rifle through the cereal cupboard.

"So, would you rather talk about your toasty complexion or your complete lack of cereal options first? I'll be honest, It's upsetting when you can't start your day with something magically delicious."

Kyla pours milk on her Smart Start and sits down at the kitchen table, crossing her legs.

"I'm making an effort to eat healthier. And I got burnt yesterday afternoon hanging out with Spencer after you went home. How'd you sleep last night?"

"Oh, I slept like a rock or some other inanimate object. How long was Spencer here yesterday? I'm going to sit her down and lecture her on the fragile state of your baby-like skin. It's coming."

Kyla snorts into her cereal, "this coming from the girl who filled my sunscreen bottle with bronzing lotion so she would have a legit reason to give someone the nickname Mr. Krabs. Somehow I don't know that you're the best advocate for healthy skincare."

Laughing at how crunchy Kyla looked that whole week, I nod, "you may be right, but man, was that a great time or what. So is Spencer coming over again tonight?"

Kyla clears her throat as she moves to rinse out her bowl. "Actually I was going to talk to you about that. She and her best friend Sara invited the two of us over for a girls' night tomorrow." She turns to me, raising an eyebrow. "You know, dinner and stuff. You down?"

Glancing up at the ceiling I flip through my internal calendar. Mmm yep, not a thing.

"I guuuuueeeeessss I could squeeze you guys in, since I'm the best sister ever and everything."

I like that Spencer and Kyla are such good friends. It's nice seeing Kyla hang out with people besides me. Plus, Spencer is interesting, to say the least.

"Mhm," Kyla starts, heading into the living room, "I'm sure you're totally swamped with stuff to do, seeing as you are almost always here anymore."

Feigning shock, I huff and collapse on the couch. "I'm sorry for trying to see you every free moment I can! Harumph!"

Kyla turns towards me, more serious. "You know, I know mom and dad divorcing was hard on you. And clearly, me putting on a hundred extra pounds was probably not the healthiest way of dealing with it either. But they're off doing their own thing now, and we get to be together again. So, as much as I love that you're here when I wake up or when I get home from work, I want you to do something for you, Ashley. You can't wait around for me for the rest of your life. Avoiding the things that remind you of your parents isn't the answer."

I sigh as Kyla reaches for my hand. I know she's right, and lately, I've been so bored. I used to feel so... just… full, I guess. Mom and Dad blowing up was an ugly affair, sending me and Kyla to opposite ends of America and all my creative interests into a box in the back of my mind. I spent all my time working to save enough money to move back to L.A. Then I got here, and Kyla had a life of her own, and I have yet to find my perfect fit, working at a book store to pay my rent, but not really moving in any direction. I remember having dreams. I just forget what they were.

I look at her concerned face and squeeze her hand. "I know. I'm working on it, I swear."

Kyla nods and turns back to the TV. "I worry about you, Ash. I feel like I'm still waiting for the rest of you to move here. I just want you to be all of you again."

Playing with the bottom of my shirt, I glance out the window at the bright sky, the soft clouds drifting lazily along in the morning sun.

Somewhere out there, there got to be something that can help me feel alive once again.

"Me too, Ky. Me too."


	6. Chapter 6

I feel I've become much better at writing these updates as I become much better at avoiding the massive amount of work piling up on my desk. Ah, sweet parallels. Anywho, this chapter goes out to Sparkles04, because I know she digs the journal entries, and this is the first one in a while. Thanks for the review Sparkles, you rock :)

Let me know what you think! I'm kind of torn on where I want to take the story from here, meaning it's about to get REAL. Happy Saint Patrick's Day everyone!

* * *

><p><em>SMC 121/12_

_Time is such a strange thing. It takes forever, or there's never enough, and sometimes there's too much, or it's all out of order. How do we know how much time we need for one thing versus another, and who defines if it's wasted or well spent? If you could pick a day, and spend every minute doing only the things you wanted, what would that amount to? Do we really know what time is while we're in it, or do we only experience these brief moments of clarity when we find the things we would rather dedicate all of our minutes towards? Why does a minute never feel weighted until the day you're counting them, wishing they'd pass slower?_

* * *

><p>Ashley<p>

The boardwalk was strangely empty for this time in the afternoon as I made my way to my favorite bench on lunch break from the book store. Saturdays in the cozy corner store are my favorite; the many breeds of people L.A. has to offer enjoying their mornings huddled over cups of coffee with their significant others in our café, or wandering through the aisles of books alone, lost in imaginary worlds erupting from freshly turned pages, secret smiles and sparks of memories setting their eyes afire. The soft glow of a dreamer, the grand stories written every day in passing without ink ever touching paper; these are my people.

Averting the lone roller blader, I plop down on the worn wood of the seat and spread lunch out beside me, enjoying the warm air blowing in off the surf, lifting the heavy curls from my neck. I toss a few crackers out to the seagulls, who chirp and pinch at each other like they've been waiting for someone to show up all day, and bite into a peanut butter sandwich.

Sweet delight.

As much as I like Saturdays, I like lazy Sundays so much more.

"AHHHEEEE! AHAHAAAA!"

Pulling my sunglasses down over my eyes, I spy a toddler bobbling after waves, a large brimmed hat balanced haphazardly on her head. A woman chases her, echoing her giddy shrieks and laughing with a fullness that seems to just bubble out of her, as if nothing in the world besides chasing this little girl could possibly make her happier. I smile as the woman crouches down and whisks the girl out of the oncoming waves, tossing her in the air and catching her with ease, a shower of surprised laughter raining down upon her.

What a sweet life, indeed.

Rolling up my paper sack, I flip it into a nearby trash can and saunter across the sand towards the pair, the woman trying to gather their things while the child wiggles wildly in her arms.

"Do you need some help, ma'm?"

"Oh, goodness, could you please?" She replies, her blue eyes echoing somewhere in my memory as she smiles and hands the wiggly girl over to me. "If you could just hold her for a minute that would make this so much easier. I'm Paula by the way."

Reaching out a hand to grasp hers, I nod, "Ashley."

Smoothing the golden hair away from her face, she rolls up towels and stuffs beach toys into a giant purple flowered bag. "It was such a nice day I figured I would steal my granddaughter for a bit and come enjoy the sunshine. Do you come to the beach often?" She says, eyeing my jeans and dark shirt with a curious half smile.

"I'm on my lunch break," I say, pausing to coo at the big brown eyes staring up at me. "I work at the book store around the corner, actually."

"Oh! I love that place. Bingham's Books, right? It's got such an old-timey feel, plus I bet you get a great discount, huh?"

Nodding, I add. "I haven't used it too much, but I told Bing I was going to have a library in my house someday and he better let me have it then, too."

Laughing, Paula shakes her head. "That would be living the dream, for sure."

I feel a tug as plump little hands pull on my curls with shy giggles following as they pop back into place. I look back up to where Paula stands, smiling down at us as she ties a wrap around her waist. "She really likes you."

"I guess so," I say, "I've never actually been around kids, but she makes them look pretty great."

Sighing quietly to herself, Paula starts, "they're the best honestly." She picks up her bag and grabs their umbrella. "Someday you'll find out for yourself though."

Smiling warmly, I reach to hand her the little girl and a giant spray of sand covers the three of us. I watch in slow motion as a mess of wet yipping hair takes Paula out at the knees.

The toddler clings back to me, burying her soft breaths in my neck, as the dog covers Paula in slimey-looking sand kisses.

"MR. TIGGS! GET OFF MIMI'S FACE!"

Whipping my head towards the voice, I barely catch tan arms wrapping around the dog as the pile of blonde hair rolling around in the sand grows by one more person. The little body in my neck turns, squealing and clapping, as a rather under-clothed Spencer holding a mess of wriggling matted fur and a very wind-blown Paula rise from the dust.

"I'm so sorry mom," Spencer laughs as Mr. Tiggs tries to lick her face, the muscles in her arms rippling smoothly beneath her skin while he fights to get free. "I didn't see you guys up here, or I'd have put him on the leash."

Paula tries to smooth some sort of shape into her knotted hair. "Remember what I said about kids being the best?" She reaches over, scratching lovingly behind the dog's ear and winks at me. "I didn't mean that about their dogs necessarily."

The little girl in my arms squeals as Mr. Tiggs jumps out of Spencer's arms and takes off after some seagulls, kicking up sand as Spencer shakes her head. "I swear he never gets tired." She blows her bangs out of her eyes and reaches her hand out, finally looking at me, "Hi, I'm… Ashley? What are you doing here?"

Laughing, I hand the reaching toddler over to Spencer, "Actually, I'm Ashley. How are you Spencer? I just met your mom and niece a few minutes ago, as strange as that may seem."

Spencer squints at me as she accepts the girl, poking the round little belly pressed against the taut skin of her own, and cooing, "Did you get to play with Ashley, Cal? Is Mimi making you wear this goofy hat again? You poor thing." She adds, untying the bright sun bonnet and releasing a wild bunch of light curly hair.

The little girl squirms under her prodding, then grabs Spencer's nose. "Cali has curls like Ashley. Ashley is pretty like Cali?"

Laughing, Spencer hands Paula the bonnet, and smiles down at Cali's deep brown eyes, "Ashley and Cali are both very pretty, that's exactly right Cali."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I catch Paula watching me with a new look in her eye.

"Ashley, if you have a minute, why don't you help me and Spencer take everything to the car?" Handing me the umbrella as she starts towards the boardwalk, she adds, "I'd love to hear how you two met."

Spencer rolls her eyes and winks at me, "I'm sure Ashley has better things to do than lackey your crap around the beach, mom"

Propping the umbrella against my shoulder, I follow in Paula's footsteps, Spencer and Cali close behind.

"Well," I start, "I only met Spencer a few days ago. She works with my sister."

"Oh, well isn't that nice!" Paula says, shading her eyes while she looks over her shoulder at my face. "How long has your sister been going to the well-"

"TIGGS! LET'S GO BOY!" Spencer yells, roughly two centimeters from my ear, I'd say, by the way it's ringing. Reaching to pick up the umbrella I threw in shock, I catch Paula and Spencer sharing an eerily similar look as Tiggs squiggles up to us panting, and falls into stride.

"Mom why don't you take Cali and I'll carry the bag for you," she says, taking the first step up onto the boardwalk. "It's ironic you met each other today, really. Ashley and I are hanging out tonight."

Paula smiles, flipping the bag on her shoulder while laying an arm warmly around my own.

"Oh I'm okay with the bag, Spence." She adds, brushing sand off of Spencer's bare back, tucking the tag into her deep purple sports bra. "So, you and Spencer are hanging out tonight! How nice!"

"Moooom." Spencer blushes, her and Cali both looking back at me. "Us and her sister and Sara, yes. We're having a girl's night."

Reaching to poke Cali's nose as she squirms away giggling, I chuckle internally at Spencer's obvious embarrassment and add, "You should come, Paula!"

"No, no Ashley, Mom's definitely busy."  
>"I think my night's actuall-"<p>

"You have plans mom."

"Well, I coul-"  
>"Mom."<p>

Tilting her head towards my ear, Paula whispers, "She couldn't keep up with us anyway." She adds a wink as Spencer opens the car door and starts to tuck Cali into her car seat. "We'll have to do it another day instead."

Grabbing the bag from her shoulder, I set it and the umbrella in the trunk and shut it quietly.

"I would love that Paula." I say, pulling her into a loose hug. "It was a pleasure meeting you today. I hope you enjoy the rest of your afternoon with Cali."

Paula turns from hugging Spencer and pats my shoulder, "Oh, Ashley don't be a stranger, dear. I'm sure I'll see you at Bingham's soon."

Smiling, she gives a final wave towards Spencer and I and gets into the car, the soft chatter of Cali in the back seat murmuring out her open door. A minute later, the car whirs into reverse and tears out of the parking lot, AC/DC blaring out the open windows.

"Sooo, that's my mom." Spencer laughs as we start back towards the storefronts. "I apologize for anything she may have said that was in anyway embarrassing, for me, at least. She's getting a little wild in her old age," she adds in a lower voice, leaning in close to me.

Blushing at the warmth of her breath against my ear, I nod it off, "Oh she didn't make you look too bad, except for a few pictures of you in red cowboy boots... The real question is, do you always run half naked on Saturday's or is this a special occasion? How do you keep sand out of... places?"

"SHE HAD THOSE PICTURES WITH HER!"

"Um no. But now I know they exist. Focus on the real question Spencer."

Looking down at her loose running shorts and sports bra, Spencer looks like she just realized how she's dressed. She clears her throat and shrugs at me, "I like to get a little de-stress time in on the weekends."

We scuffle along down the sidewalk, Mr. Tiggs trailing happily behind us as Bigham's Books slowly comes into view. I kick a pebble in front of Spencer.

"Do you spend the whole weekend de-stressing? Because I don't know if you've noticed or not Spencer, but you're, like, ripped."

Spencer kicks the pebble back in front of me.

"I really like to work out?" She adds, nodding towards the book store. "That's where you work?"

"It is." I say, checking the time on my cell phone. "I need to get back in there actually. My lunch break is almost up."

Spencer smiles at me, reaching down to pat Tiggs as we stop on the sidewalk in front of the store.

"Well it was nice running into you, Ashley… …Have a good afternoon!" She says, taking a few hesitant steps towards the boardwalk, still facing me.

I smile, nodding, "I'll see you tonight. Enjoy the rest of your workout."

She nods, turns, and starts walking back to the beach. I jump as Mr. Tiggs nudges my hand with his nose, and look down to see him giving me the strangest look. Nodding, I look back up.

"Hey Spencer."

Turning back, her blue eyes meet mine. "Yeah?"

Tiggs nudges my hand again as I continue. "You look great, by the way."

Grinning, Spencer waves me off, her skin softly glowing as she reaches the sunlight on the boardwalk. "I'll see you tonight, Ash."

Matching her grin, I watch her until she hits the sand and takes off running, Mr. Tiggs following closely behind her, tail wagging in the sunshine.

Walking back into the store, I sigh. This is going to be the slowest Saturday afternoon of all time.

* * *

><p><em>Some guy once said there was time enough for everything. <em>

_But then I look at you, and I know, time is one thing there will never be enough of._


	7. Chapter 7

Good day everyone, or night rather. Here's to a good week for everyone reading this! Please please please review so I actually feel motivated to update :)

This chapter is dedicated toooooooooooo omgasmurf, because when I wanted to go run tonight, I made myself sit and write this, because sometimes she thinks about this story and that makes me feel grand :) Thanks for the love omgasmurf!

Now back to the good part.

* * *

><p>Spencer<p>

"Hey Sara, could you keep an eye on the lasagna for me? I'm gonna change my clothes real quick." I yell over the blaring music and ringing phone.

Turning down the stereo, Sara chuckles, nods, and tosses the cordless to me. "Yup. You may as well take this while you're back there."

Glancing at the Caller ID, I roll my eyes at her and head back to my bedroom.

"What do you want, Mom."

"Oh, hi Spencer! How IS your day?"

Sometimes I wish Mom had more daughters so she wasn't quite so involved in my affairs. I mean her and Glen talk about Cali, and her and Clay talk about Med School, but with me, it's always been the same thing. It's as if her biggest fear in life is that I'll end up alone with a house full of cats. Doesn't she know Mr. Tiggs is allergic to cats?

"My day was good. How was yours?" I say, flipping through my t-shirt drawer; totally going comfy tonight.

"Well, I had work and then I got off early so I went to the beach with Cali and I met the nicest girl there! You'll never believe."

Pulling on a pair of black sweats, I decide to play along.

"Alright Mom, Ashley and Kyla are on their way here, let's just get down to it shall we."

I hear the quiet murmur of the TV flipping on the other end of the line. Dad must be working late tonight.

"I was just really impressed is all. Ashley was pleasant and kind and her hair is beautiful! Where do you think she gets it done? Maybe she'll take me with her next time. I should get her number! She seems like such a nice girl."

Running a brush through my own hair, I glance out the back window at the driveway.

"She is a nice girl. That's why we're friends."

Sighing, Mom's end of the line goes quiet.

"Just be open to maybe being more than friends, Spence. That's all I ask."

I pick up the family portrait on the top of my dresser as she talks to me. Dad with his arm tight around Mom's shoulders, Glen on Clay's back with his fist in the air, me holding a fish with Dad's hand resting on top of my hat; all those trips to the lake house, just spending time as a loving family, how could I not want the same someday?

"I am, Mom. Don't worry."

A black car pulls into the drive as I set the picture back down and head out to the hallway. "The girls are here, I'll call you tomorrow?"

The TV flips back on as Mom answers with renewed vigor, "You betchya! Have a great night, tell Ashley I said hi!"

"Not a chance, love you!" I add, setting the phone back on its stand as I cut through the kitchen. Sara is sitting with Tiggs, a large glass of red wine, and a knowing smirk. "Mother knows best, they say."

"Shut it Sara. And who is they? Whatever. They're here, I'm gonna let them in."

A quick glance in the mirror and I'm at the front door, listening to Kyla and Ashley's heated conversation on the front step.

"Ashley stop fidgeting so I can ring the doorbell."

"Kyla, why did you let me wear this? I didn't know Spencer lived by the ocean! I look retarded! The wind is freezing out here."

"You look fine! Now stop shivering and get it together."

"If I don't get hypothermia, your ass—"

I chuckle quietly as the doorbell chimes into Ashley's threats. Peeking through the peep hole, I see Kyla brushing her hair back, smiling towards the door. Ashley elbows her, then rubs her hands up and down her bare arms, her tank top and loose brown curls fluttering in the night air.

Opening the door, I smile and step back out of the way.

"Hey guys! Welcome to my humble abode!"

Kyla meets my smile brightly and pulls me into a hug, shrugging off her jacket as Ashley tries not to look miserably frozen.

"Hey Spencer, I love this place! I didn't realize you lived right on the beach? No wonder you're so tan. I brought some wine, I hope that's okay? I thought it would be weird to show up empty handed..." Kyla rambles, waving the wine bottle around expressively while placing her shoes next to Ashley's on the rug.

"You'll have to excuse her," Ashley says, closing the front door. "She gets a little long winded when she's hungry." With a half smile, she follows Kyla's cue, opening her arms for a hug as well.

I meet her embrace, shivering at the chill of her skin on my arms, and the warmth of her words murmured against my ear.

"Hey Spencer. Smells delicious."

"Thanks," I say, as heat rushes up into my cheeks. "Really, it's all Sara," I add, leading them towards the kitchen. "She cooks wonderfully. If it were left to me we'd be eating apple slices and cheese on crackers."

"She's not lying," Sara says, standing as we exit the front hallway, meeting Kyla at the island bar. "Hi, I'm Sara. I've heard so much about the both of you." She adds, shaking Ashley's hand as well.

"So nice to finally put a face to the name," Kyla says, putting the wine down on the counter as Spencer slips behind her to pull the salad out of the fridge. "Spence is there anything we can do?"

"Just grab a seat and get ready to be impressed," I say, plopping the salad bowl down on the table next to the lasagna tray. "I wore these sweats for a reason, you know. I have every intention of being rolled out of here after this meal."

Sara snorts and hands Ashley three more wine glasses.

"Don't let her act like she doesn't have to be rolled somewhere after every meal. Spencer's a pig." She adds, popping the cork out of Kyla's wine bottle as the Davies move to each end of the table and settle in. Holding up the wine bottle, she smiles. "Now then. Shall we, ladies?"

* * *

><p>Kyla<p>

"So I run into the room and Sara is sitting on a table, on top of my bed, with a tennis racket, and baby Tiggs is asleep in one of my slippers on the floor," Spencer chuckles, shaking her head as she pushes her finished plate away and rubs her swollen stomach.

The kitchen rings with laughter as Sara sticks out her tongue and flicks a crouton at Spencer. It's interesting to watch the two girls interact. You'd almost think they were sisters like Ashley and I with how they pick at each other.

"I'm telling you guys, Tiggs thought I was a squeak toy for at least the first six months he lived here," she says, pouring more wine into her and Ashley's glasses. "I spent so much time on that table it probably has my butt impression in it now."

"And what a cute butt it is!" Spencer adds, playfully slapping Sara's arm as she steps behind her, picking up her plate to take to the sink. "Does anyone want anything else while I'm up?"

Ashley groans and wraps her arms around her stomach, "I couldn't possibly eat another bite, Spencer. Sara, you sure can cook, girl." She adds, reaching for my plate to stack on her own as she follows Spencer. Tossing the napkins in the trash, I head towards the glass doors leading to the back deck and sit next to Mr. Tiggs, who is collapsed, belly-up, on the vent, snoring. Ten more minutes with this full stomach and I could totally look just like him

Spencer smiles to herself as Ashley places the plates in the sink beside her, furtively speaking to her under her breath. Laughing, Sara pops the salad in the fridge and joins me on the floor with the dog.

"It's the having a family thing. I feel like I have to do more than open a box of cereal and put it on the table every night. I never thought I'd see the day," Sara says, twining her fingers through Tigg's curls. "Are either of you girls dating anyone?" She adds, glancing nonchalantly between us.

Catching her eye, I raise a suggestive eyebrow towards the pair in the kitchen, and say, "not this girl. I'm more focused on me right now."

She winks at me as she turns her head back to the giggles at the sink, "and what about you, Ashley?"

Looking towards us, Ashley slowly smiles and shakes her head. "Nah, it's just me and Kyla. Davies sisters, do or die." She adds, elbowing Spencer in the ribs.

It's awesome to see her acting like her old self, the familiar sly grin sneaking onto her face every now and again. I can't help but notice how often her eyes seem to land on the only blonde in the room, making me wonder if the rosy cheeks and quiet smiles are from too much wine, or something else. She does look awfully comfortable in the oversized hoodie Spencer forced her into before dinner.

Chuckling to myself, I nod, "Yup. Do or die. At least that's what our tattoos say."

Pausing dramatically, Spencer turns to meet my eyes, then points a sudsy finger at Sara. "I TOLD you we needed to get matching tattoos or we would get behind on the times! I swear, you go have a couple kids and then boom, suddenly you're 145 and "too old" for tattoos and piercings and being the front half of the donkey at my parent's Halloween party!"

Ashley throws her head back with laughter. "You two do NOT go as a donkey for Halloween."

"Psh," Spencer says, rinsing off the last of the dinner plates. "One time we even got my parents to dress up as Shrek and Fiona. Best. Year. Ever." She adds, placing the towel back down on the counter. "Well then," she starts, with a British accent, "shall we retire to the verandah myess?"

Donning a matching accent, Ashley hooks her own arm in Spencer's. "Why that sounds lovely! Let's!"

Rolling my eyes towards Sara, she grins and reaches to help me up. "My God Kyla, what have we done."

Following behind Spencer and Ashley as they hum loudly and skip towards the deck, I shake my head and wrap my arm around her shoulders. "Oh Sara. I think we were born to do this."

* * *

><p>Ashley<p>

"Thank you so much for coming out tonight guys. I hope you had a great time!" Sara says, following Kyla and I as we drop our wine glasses off at the sink on our way towards the front door. Spencer locks the deck doors behind us, and pulls down the shade.

"We should thank you for feeding us so well!" I say, pulling Sara into a hug. I know I just met the girl, but I think this will be the first of many girls' nights to come. She's too funny not to keep around.

"I may not eat for a week," Kyla adds, pulling our "to-go" boxes out of the fridge. Needless to say, when Sara says she's going to cook a feast, she's gonna cook a feast. I'll be eating lasagna until Wednesday.

"Come on guys, I'll walk you to the door" Spencer says, placing a hand on Kyla's back and leading her towards the foyer. Kyla chuckles and throws a wave to Sara over her shoulder as I follow along behind them, watching the two with hands in my pockets.

Spencer talks quietly to Kyla, giggling and bumping her hip to hip on the way to the door. Her hair is a giant blonde nest on top of her head, her face flushed from too much beach wind and red wine. I catch her nose wrinkle as she chuckles at something Kyla says, the smile carrying all the way through, even to the corners of her eyes.

I wonder what it's like to be so full. So warm. So beautiful.

"You guys get home safe," she says, holding the leftovers as we each slip on our shoes. Kyla pulls her into a one armed hug as she grabs the food and, glancing up, I barely catch a wink as she slinks out the front door. "I'll see you Monday, Spence," she says, the glow of lights along the front pathway outlining her darkening silhouette.

"Good night, Spencer," I say, stepping out onto the front porch. "It was truly a wonderful evening—Oh! I almost forgot…" Grasping the bottom of her hoodie, I move to pull it over my head, but stop as I feel warm fingers fold around my own.

"No, no." Spencer says, pulling me closer as she slips the sweatshirt back down over my waist. "You can keep it, Ashley."

My heart thunders so loudly, I almost miss the words spoken softly against my cheek.

"It looks nice on you."

Intertwining our fingers, I wrap my arms around her back and pull her through the electric inch between us, sealing the space with the sweet sincerity of each other. The soft whisper of her hair in the wind. The rich scent of deep trees and summer mornings and warm burning wood. The cool brush of her nose, a quick hot breath against my neck, and the prickling burn of a sweeping kiss, pressed against my jaw.

And then it's gone. Reaching up to capture my own cheek, as if I might hold some of Spencer's warmth there, I look up at her, as she leans against the side of her front door, blue eyes shining merrily back at me. "Good night, Ashley," she says, the moonlight glowing softly upon her face.

Dropping my hand back down to my side, I clear my throat and nod, turning towards the road.

"Sweet dreams, Spencer." I add, winking over my shoulder.

Curving down the first steps I spy Kyla, tapping her toe impatiently in the drive way, giving me a frozen glare as I toss her the car keys. The night is quiet besides the jingle of her unlocking her door; so quiet, that I'm not surprised when Spencer's murmurs reach my ears, carried in the ocean breeze.

"The sweetest dreams, Ashley…"

Smiling softly, I wrap her sleeves around me and head to the car.


	8. Chapter 8

Hello everyone! This chapter goes out to ashleyss27, because anyone who offers cookies deserves a chapter of their own. Thanks for the review! :) Here's to a wonderful holiday weekend!

And on with the show...

* * *

><p>Kyla<p>

"So, in summation, you do a sit up with this ball, toss it to me at the top, I'll toss it back to you, you lower back down to the ground, and we'll repeat the whole process. Got it?"

I nod, taking the weight ball from Spencer's hand and settling in the sand. Manly Monday, as she likes to call it, has so far consisted of an hour and twenty minutes of upper body exercises. I remember thinking two hour sessions were a good idea. How naïve I was. I'm pretty sure I left my arms back where we threw sandbags…. maybe my dignity, too.

"Alright Kyla, begin."

Lifting my torso up, I toss the ball at Spencer who smiles and nods her head.

"Perfect."

Perfect, indeed. Here I am rolling around in the sand, covered in sweat and grime, and Spencer is glowing, polished in her spandex capris and black sports bra, silhouetted in the morning sun above me. Freakin athletes.

"Twenty more seconds, Ky."

Feeling the burn in my waist, I grunt in frustration and toss the ball harder at Spencer's stomach. She's been making me do time based exercises all morning. I'm going to throw that stop watch into the ocean next time she's not looking.

"And…..time. Great consistency, Kyla. You even threw it a little harder towards the end!"

As she rolls the ball towards her duffle bag of torture, I squint my eyes at her from where I sit and she laughs, tossing me a bottle of water.

"I get it. Break time. Check."

Sighing, I take a swig and enjoy the cool satisfaction that runs through my limbs as Spencer plops down beside me, legs strung out in front of her.

"How you feeling, Champ?"

"Blaaaahh," I groan. Chuckling, Spencer sweeps together a pile of sand between her knees.

"Well if it's any consolation, you're doing great. We're not even at a week yet and I'm already noticing progress in your endurance."

I grimace as she cracks open her own bottle, sipping thoughtfully.

"So did you have fun on Saturday?"

Delicious Dinner? Great conversation on the back deck? Psh, yeah. I nod.

"Yeah, Spence. That was great, and Sara is really something."

Laughing, Spencer flattens her sand pile. "Yeah, she's something alright. She's already planning our next girls' night. Something about an 80's afternoon and mesh t-shirts? I worry about her."

"Sounds good to me, except maybe the mesh part. Ashley and I pretty much only hang out with each other anyways, and she's been picking up more hours at work, so I barely see her."

"Oh yeah," Spencer says, glancing at me. "That's too bad. She's a nice girl."

Turning to face her, I smirk as she digs her fingers into the sand.

"Just nice, huh? You guys seemed to hit it off to me and Sara."

Blushing, Spencer shields her eyes and tilts her head towards me.

"Oh Kyla, is it that obvious?"

Remembering the two of them giggling side by side in deck chairs under the stars, I smile.

"Ashley wore your sweatshirt all day yesterday, Spencer. "

Grinning widely, Spencer takes another swig of water then tosses the bottle over her shoulder towards her bag.

"Well then, break's over! Things to do! Let's get a couple mile walk in, lady."

I sigh, toss my bottle next to hers, and follow after her as she skips and cartwheels towards the shoreline, blonde hair blowing freely in the wind.

"You know just because Ashley likes you does NOT mean I do right now!"

* * *

><p>Ashley<p>

"Hey Bing, you want these stacks moved upstairs too?"

"Yeah, all three of these shelves. All the new bookshelves are up now, so there's plenty of room. You staying late tonight?"

Sighing, I eyeball the massive three bookshelves and run my fingers through my hair.

"Uh, yeah. There's no way all this will be done before 5. You're lucky it's your anniversary, bucko." I add, pointing at him with a smirk.

Bing, grins and grabs my finger.

"I owe ya one, Ashley. I'll even bring you breakfast tomorrow…. for when you get here early to help move around the café tables…." He chuckles as he pats my back and heads off towards his office.

"Killing me, boss."

Waving fondly over his shoulder, he shuts his door.

If I had known the store was expanding into its second story this week I would have taken it off. But, no. When Bing asked me if I wanted to work more, he somehow managed to leave the description of the hours as highly strenuous child labor out. My thighs are gonna be screaming after carrying all these books up the stairs. Let's see, if it's 3 o'clock now-

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you down there." A woman says, reaching down to help me gather the mess of paperbacks scattered on the floor.

"No, no, my fault. I probably shouldn't crouch down with people milling about anyways," I say, grabbing for the last book at the same time she does.

"Ashley?" Glancing up, I meet a familiar pair of blue eyes.

"Paula? How the heck are you?"

Dusting off her hands, she pulls me into an awkward hug as the books teeter in my arms.

"I'm great Ashley, just trying to pick up something new to read before the late shift at the hospital. Talk about a long Monday…" She adds, elbowing me suggestively in the ribs.

Laughing, I set the restacked books onto a free shelf and show her towards the new fiction section.

"Man, here I thought my Monday was going to be long. At least I'll be done in five or six hours."

Paula picks up one of the new best sellers and flips to the back cover, skimming the description.

"I saw the renovations sign in the window. You have to get all of this stuff moved tonight?" She says, eyebrows reaching for her hairline.

Both of us glance back at the corner of sloppy books. I sigh and nod.

"Yep. Re-Grand Opening is on Wednesday morning and there's still a lot to do until then."

Paula grimaces and heads towards the cash register, me following in stride.

"Alright, I definitely don't want to trade you spots," she adds, setting the book on the counter as she reaches into her purse. "Isn't anyone going to help you?"

"Nah," I say, ringing her up on the register. "Bing has his anniversary dinner tonight so I told him I'd cover. I could use the extra hours anyway."

Paula looks thoughtful for a moment as she hands me a twenty dollar bill.

"Well, if I'm free on Wednesday, I'll stop by and check out your handy work."  
>Smiling, I hand her back her change, which she drops in the tip jar.<p>

"I'll keep my eyes peeled for you, then. Have a great night, Paula!" I add over the jingle of the bell as she opens the front door.

"Take care Ashley!" She waves with a grin, slipping out into the sunlit streets as I turn back towards the pile of paperbacks in the corner.

"Now where was I…"

* * *

><p>Spencer<p>

BZZZZ….

Grumbling, I smack the side table until everything on it and in reach falls onto the floor. Who dares disturb my slumber! My session with Kyla ran long this morning and I was more than ready for quality nap time when I got home.

BZZZZ…

I swear to God.

BZZZZ….

Pulling my blanket back from over my head, I blow the bangs out of my face, crack open an eye and groan, reaching for my cell phone. This better be good.

_6 Text Messages_

Rolling over onto my back, I flip open the message menu and scroll through them.

MISS MAYBE: _The new climbing ropes are in. I saved them for you since you love the "fresh rope" smell, or whatever you call it. Installing tomorrow!_

FIST PUMP! I knew Maybe was a keeper. I click next.

K-DIZZLE: _My arms fell off in the shower. You bitch. See you tomorrow!_

Laughing, I click save while shaking my head. Kyla is such a drama queen. I can't wait until we start running stairs together in a couple months.

P.C. CHILLIN': _Hey Spence, call me._

Oh boy. You never want to miss one of Mom's calls. Immediate escalation to freak out mode. I skim the rest of them with growing unease.

P.C. CHILLIN': _Do you want anything from the bookstore? I'm browsing._

The low battery signal flashes on the screen.

P.C. CHILLIN': _Spencer, are you asleep? If you don't answer I'm stopping by! I have to tell you something!_

P.C. CHILLIN': _Spencer Marie Carlin, if you're ignoring me, forget Christmas!_

Ominously, my phone flashes once and then dies to a black screen.

Forget Christmas? Ripping back the covers, I jump out of bed and trip over my running shoes, hitting the wood floor in the hallway hard, palms down, spread eagle. Mr. Tiggs pops his head around the corner from the kitchen and, seeing me face first on the floor, lets fly a yip as he barrels towards me, tongue out, eyebrows billowing in the wind.

"Tiggs nooooo!" I bellow, covering my head with my arms. The impact knocks the air out of me, as Tiggs catapults over my head and lands all four paws on my back, then sits and wags his tail.

Coughing, I roll to push him off and crawl towards the kitchen phone.

"Perfect landing, buddy, but we've got a crisis on our hands."

Picking up the cordless phone, I dial Mom's number. As expected, she answers on the first ring.

"Spencer. Where have you been."

Scratching Mr. Tiggs ear, I sigh. "Well, I was sleeping, but then someone kept texting me, so alas, now I am awake. What can I do for you Mom?"

"Well," Mom says, pausing as if she were carefully choosing her words. "I need you to do a little favor for me."

"I see. Go on."

"I forgot Clay's birthday dinner this Wednesday and I was going to pick him up one of those old antique anatomy books they sell at that bookstore down by the boardwalk."

"You mean Bingham's?" I say, totally aware of Mom's ulterior motives. That woman would never forget a birthday present. Heck, I've already found mine in her closet and my birthday is forever away. I'm on to you lady. "That place Ashley works?"

Mom gasps in surprise. "Oh, I totally forgot she worked there! I saw a sign saying they were open late tonight, would you mind stopping down and picking a copy up for me? I'm just so busy at work this week."

Sighing, I look at the clock. 6:45. "Fine Mom, but you owe me! I don't put on pants for just anyone!" I add, standing to put the phone back on its charger.

"Thanks Spencer, I appreciate it. Do something with your hair before you go! Love you!"

"Yeah yeah, love you Mom." I say, chuckling, and hang up the phone.

"Come on lady, either get in the car or get out of the way." Grumbling under my breath, I finally spot an open parking spot and whip my car in. Boardwalk parking at night is a fate worse than death.

Grabbing some cash, I tuck it in my pocket and lock my car as I hit the sidewalk. The shops along the strip are buzzing, warm light and muted conversations tipping out into the street as I pass by. Approaching the corner, I notice Bingham's to be the one exception, its sidewalk cold and alone, the front light dark. A simple white sign marked _Closed Early for Renovations _sat in the window.

Of course it is.

Walking up to the large front window, I peek into the store at the aisles of dark books softly alit in the dimmed café glow. Nobody's home. Tucking my hands in my pockets, I turn to leave, but stop, catching a slight movement in the back of the store.

Ashley moves into the light carrying a monstrous stack of books in her arms. I chuckle as she attempts to blow a curl out of her eyes, loose from the knot of hair tied precariously on top her head. Stubbing her toe as she comes around a bookcase, her mouth moves in a flurry of shapes as her eyebrows knit together.

Giggling, I tap on the glass. Her mouth stops and a look of alarm slips over her face as she sets the books down on the front desk, attempting to peer through the darkened windows from a distance. The door quietly edges open, Ashley's worried brown eyes warming as they find me, leaning against the brick of the building with a smirk.

"Well, hey there."

Chuckling, Ashley opens the door the rest of the way and beckons me in.

"Lurking tonight, Spencer? You scared me half to death."

"Actually," I say, walking inside as she closes and locks the door behind me. "One Paula Carlin called and asked me to pick up a book for her because you guys would be open late tonight, which," picking up the book on the top of her counter stack, I leaf through it. "I'm beginning to think may have been a slight fabrication."

Shaking her head, Ashley reaches for the rest of the stack and gestures for me to follow her upstairs.

"I know I've only known your Mom for like two days, but she's hilarious."

"I worry about her sanity." I say, running my fingers along the wooden banister behind her. Setting the stack on the floor in front of a bookshelf, she sighs, sits down, and starts to slide the books into place, side by side.

"So, this is what "closed early for renovations" looks like, huh?"

Laughing, Ashley sticks the final book in place and grabs my outstretched hand to stand.

"Yeah, I guess so. You don't have to stick around to watch all the excitement," she adds, giving me a half smile. "I'm sure you have something better to do."

Reaching up, I tuck the loose curl back into Ashley's hair band and run my palms down the length of her arms, squeezing her hands as I look at her.

"I can't think of a single thing. How about I help you with the last bit and then, maybe dinner?"

Raising an eyebrow, she turns and heads down the stairs, her hands slipping out of mine. At the bottom, she looks up at me and smiles.

"Well, aren't you coming?"

Taking the steps two at a time, I pass her with a grin.

"Wouldn't miss it."

"So, there I am sitting in the airport after not seeing Kyla in forever. She comes in, sees me, screams at the top of her lungs, stiff arms two kids, hurdles a rolling suitcase, and tackles me in the middle of LAX. It was a traumatic experience."

Throwing my head back, I laugh loudly, earning dirty looks from the woman at the table next to ours as I cover my mouth, chuckling behind my hand.

"That's exactly the kind of welcoming home everyone should get. Kyla never holds back, huh?"

Sipping her iced tea, Ashley shakes her head, joining in my laughter.

"Um, no. I can't say she's ever been confused with timid."

I push my chair back and smile as she picks over what's left on her plate, the amusement in her eyes glowing slightly brighter than the bulbs strung along the tree branches in the outside café.

"Oh man, I love this song," she mumbles, stuffing a ketchup covered fry into her mouth. I look over my shoulder at the street band, playing an acoustic version of some soft rock hit. The waiter drops off the bill and I snatch at it, winking at Ashley as she withdraws her hand, blushing. Throwing some cash on the table, I watch her for a moment, quietly humming along with the band, then stand.

"Come on."

As we hit the boardwalk, I feel her hand rest softly on the small of my back.

"Wait a second," I say, pausing by the boardwalk railing to slip off my shoes as Ashley grins and does the same. Walking down the stairs together, we step onto the cool night sand.

"I'll race you!" Ashley squeals, spraying up sand as she kicks ahead of me, a shoe flailing about in either hand. Laughing, I watch her jump and collapse dramatically on to her back, a couple yards away from the damp tide sand. Walking slowly, I join her as she stares up at the moon, one arm folded under her head.

"I guess you win."

"You never had a chance," she says, the moonlight resting along the curve of her secret smile as she turns her eyes to meet mine.

"Nope," I say, reaching down to tuck the warmth of her hand within my own. Looking back up at the dotted night sky, I murmur quietly as her fingers lace with mine.

"I never did."


	9. Chapter 9

__Heyo! Sorry this one took a bit; it's about to get action packed, so packed even, I'm not sure if I can even write it. That much! [!] Empty promises until it happens, I know. This one goes out to victorial117, I hope this one makes your weekend. Thanks for the love! Happy Friday (Saturday?) everyone!

* * *

><p><em>SMC 125/12_

_When I was little my Dad would pull me into his lap and whisper secrets into my ear. Sometimes they weren't really secrets, just how we needed grape jelly or how later we'd run through the sprinkler. But sometimes they were. Like little pieces of him he would give to me, then pat me on the back before he sent me off into the world again with bits of him tucked away into a space in my heart. He still does it occasionally, whispering quiet emotions or hidden memories into my hair when he hugs me before I leave. What his favorite hiding place was when he was a child. The first time he can remember succeeding greatly, and failing miserably. The sweet bits of sunlight he saw in Mom's hair when he met her. The parts of himself he sees in me._

_And I wonder, does he tell me secrets so that I know him? Or does he tell me secrets so that I don't slip away?  
><em>

* * *

><p>Kyla<p>

"Good Lord Kyla, what is all this!"

Grinning at Ashley, I drop my shopping bags on the bed and shrug my shoulders.

"Little spring shopping?"

Ashley lets out a low whistle from the doorway and runs her hands through her curls.

"I'm not sure if you have enough room for all four seasons at this rate."

Turning to the closet, I pause, then grab a stack of jeans and toss them into the middle of the floor.

"I guess I'll make some room then," I add, pulling down a bunch of t-shirts.

"Good luck with that," Ashley shrugs and wanders off into the apartment, humming some tune under her breath.

Reaching into the bags, I re-fold some new running pants and plop them on the cleared shelf. In the grand list of things I despise, cleaning out my closet is up there. Top five, even. But I figured a little shopping spree for workout clothes might be good motivation. A week has passed since I first started training with Spencer and I'd like to say a lot has changed, but of course it hasn't.

Turning to the shirts and dresses hanging along the rack, I rip the articles down one by one, tossing them out onto a chair. I'd probably have a lot more space in this closet if all my clothes weren't freakin huge. Now there's some motivation.

Course maybe I'm too focused on immediate results and should be more satisfied with at least feeling better. I have more energy. I'm actually hungry when I sit down to eat.

I guess that's good.

Picking at a ratty old sweatshirt, I toss it over my shoulder and move on to the next pile. I don't want to keep these clothes if keeping them means I'll stay the same.

I woke up this morning and for the first time, I didn't feel sore. And I didn't feel tighter or stronger or in any way lighter. I think I actually feel heavier than ever. I thought there would be a lot of little things that would make me feel like I'm accomplishing things along the way, and since Spencer banned me from going anywhere near a scale until she says so, how am I supposed to know if I'm doing better?

Another example of how she's a Nazi if you ask me. Everyone sees the blue eyes and blonde hair, Spencer.

Maybe I don't want comfort anymore. I'm sick of letting myself make excuses.

Sighing, I sit on the edge of the bed and pinch the bridge of my nose.

Some days it just feels like there are a million miles between where I am and where I want to be.

I'm just not sure if I have enough gas for the drive.

I pause as Ashley shuffles back into the doorway with an armload of random stuff, her eyes intently following the summary on the back of a movie box.

"Hey Ky, I'm borrowing these movies. And this blanket. And some popcorn. And also this pillow." She says, her eyes finally looking up to meet mine. She glances around in awe at the massive amount of apparel spewed about the room.

"What the…"

Sighing, I feel the heat rise in my cheeks. I forgot she was here. Pointing to her armload of crap, I clear my throat.

"Seriously, Ashley, is there anything actually in your apartment?"

Ashley gasps in mock shock as she turns back to me, dropping the pile on top of a bunch of t-shirts as she makes her way into the room.

"Objects don't make a house a home Kyla. People do."

"You live alone."

"Well aren't you all shining glory today." She says, leaning against the bed post trying to make eye contact with me. She crosses her arms as her eyebrows scrunch. "I'm not quite sure that you had to take absolutely everything out of the closet to fit in those five bags. It's just a guess, but I'm pretty good at estimating. So, you wanna tell me why you're flinging everything around like a crazy person?"

I shrug my shoulders and look up at her.

"Honestly. I don't even know anymore."

Sighing, Ashley sits down beside me, pulling my hands into her lap.

"You know Kyla. I may not know much, but I do know when something's on your mind. And I know it's been there for a while now, so you must not want to talk about it." She says, her brown eyes searching mine. "But I'm right here ready to listen when you're ready to talk, okay?"

She gives me a half smile, reaching up to catch a single warm tear slipping over my cheek. "Don't ever forget that."

Nodding, I look down at the comforter and take a deep breath.

I can be patient. And I will be strong.

"Thanks Ash." I mumble, tugging her into a hug. Her arms are sure and warm around my shoulders.

"I think I'm just gonna take a shower and go from there." I say, standing up as Ashley arms fall back to her sides.

"You sure, Ky?"

Walking towards the doorway, I turn and nod. "Yeah, I'm okay. How about some dinner? There's some fish in the freezer if you want to start thawing it." I add, leaning against the doorway.

Ashley stares at me for a minute, her face blank. Jumping up, she claps her hands and follows me out of the room.

"Sounds good. Go shower, I'm starving." She says, tickling my sides as she skips past me towards the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, I tip toe down the hallway shaking my head as she howls along with some Katy Perry song, dancing around the kitchen and cutting up a head of lettuce. It's a wonder I can keep any neighbors. Slipping into my room, I stop and wrap my towel a little tighter.

The room is clean, the bed made, and a single candle burns on the side table. Pulling a pair of pants and a shirt out of the closet, I sigh at the neatly stacked shelves, the clothing hung by color order along the racks.

Even when she doesn't know what's wrong, somehow, she always knows how to take care of me.

Peeking out towards the kitchen, I see her singing dramatically into a set of tongs, dancing a bowl of tossed salad around the kitchen with her eyes shut tight.

I chuckle and pull my door shut again, reaching for my sweats as I hang my towel on a hook.

It's easy to get frustrated, it's easy to give up, and it's definitely easy to forget that it's not about being skinny or pretty or any of that.

It's about all the minutes I gain because I'm taking better care of my health.

It's about all the hours I'll spend learning how to love myself again along the way, as much as other people in my life already do.

It's about realizing that, whether I'm 200 pounds or 25, it's my life and my body; only I can determine the shape of each.

Flipping open my bedroom door, I creep down the hall and grab a spatula from the counter, wailing a backup note as Ashley shrieks in surprise, an interruption to her private side dish waltzing. She slaps my arm and carries the salad to the table laughing, as I slide the fish into the oven.

"You want a bottle of water?" I ask, pulling open the fridge.

Ashley nods and pulls out a chair for me.

"I'll take whatever you'll give me Kyla."

Squeezing her hand, I set down the water and take a seat.

"Including all of my movies."

Nodding, Ashley munches on salad.

"Including all of your movies."

* * *

><p>Sara<p>

"Does anyone want anything else while I'm up?" Spencer asks, pointing towards the kitchen door as she glances from face to face around the back patio table.

Mouths full of food mumble, waving her off. Glen spoons more potato salad onto his plate.

"Oh, bring out the tea, would you Spencer?" Paula says, smiling as she reaches over Linden to brush a piece of Logan's hair off his forehead. He smiles, his cheeks chubby with a mouthful of cheeseburger as Paula lovingly taps the tip of his nose with her finger.

"Thanks Mimi."

I see how it is. When Mimi does anything it's cool, but if Mom does that, he'd grumble and hide his face and be appalled with absolute embarrassment because he is seven and NOT a baby. Kids.

"Cali looks more like you every day," Clay says, reaching for the potato salad as Glen sets it back down. Arthur chuckles as Glen nods his head grinning proudly, chunks of potato and celery stuck between his teeth.

"Don't worry, honey" Arthur says, tugging the little blonde's curls. "You may look like your Daddy but you're already smarter."

The table erupts in laughter as Spencer comes back from the kitchen with a grin, a pitcher, and a wet washcloth in hand.

"What'd I miss?"

Passing the tea to Paula, she wipes the watermelon juice from Cali's bare chest and face.

"Pappy was just reminding Cali that she has her Mother's brains," Madison says, giving Spencer a wink as she consolingly pats Glen's hand. "Thanks for cleaning her up, Spencer. The terrible twos are going to be the end of us," she continues, as Glen nods in agreement.

"So true. I don't know how you and Dad had me and Spence at pretty much the same time, Mom. I swear Cali never sits down unless she's eating and then she's just smashing food everywhere."

Everyone laughs, but it's a bittersweet tug on my heart. Sure, Glen and Madison look tired, but I can't help but wish I'd of had the opportunity to raise my own kids through their terrible twos. Watching their blonde heads whisper secretly side by side, sneaking furtive glances at the backyard pool, I feel like I've missed out on so much.

Paula shakes her head, wrapping her arm around Spencer's shoulders as she sits back down beside her.

"You two have always been a blessing."

"And a curse," Arthur adds, coughing behind his hand, a clever glint in his eyes.

"Hey!" Spencer laughs, tossing a grape at him playfully. Elbowing Linden, she continues. "I'm pretty sure I was the blessing and Glen was the curse. Isn't that how it works when you have a girl and a boy, Linden?"

Looking at Logan, Linden nods. "Yep. At least that's what Mom whispers in my ear every night before she tucks me in. 'Linden you're my favorite. Love you more than Logan.'"

Whipping his head towards me, Logan's mouth opens in shock. "Mom!"

Nodding slowly, I shrug. "It is what it is buddy."

Chuckling, Chad reaches across the table and squeezes Logan's arm. "They're joking, buddy. Don't let the girls play with your head. There's plenty of time for that later," he adds, shooting a squint and an eyebrow wiggle my way. Logan may always try to be Mister Tough Guy for me and his sister, but secretly, he sometimes yanks me into bed with him at night, just to talk before he goes to sleep. He's a Mama's boy. Score one for me.

Shrugging, he turns back to his burger as Clay ruffles his hair. "He's right man. It'll always be boys against girls around here. We gotta stay strong."

Logan wipes his mouth with his fist and nods, glaring at Linden as chuckles bubble up around the table at the exchange. Linden half smiles and raises an eyebrow. She may not be ten yet, but she can totally hold her own. Sometimes I just watch her and wonder how so much personality can fit into such a little body.

"So Clay," Chad says, reaching to steal a chip off Glen's plate. "Now that Medical School is almost out of the way, you and Chelsea thinking about having some of your own little ones?"

Chelsea smiles and wraps her arm around Clay's. "You know, we've talked about it actually. But we're thinking about doing what you and Sara did," she says, reaching to squeeze my hand.

"We figure," Clay adds. "I was lucky enough to be adopted into a great family and it totally changed my life. We'd love to give that opportunity to someone else, you know?"

Logan nods along with the table. "I vote yes. Me and Linden can help you pick them out!" He exclaims, high fiving Linden then fist pumping.

Laughing, Arthur comes up behind the kids and clears their plates. "It may be a little more complicated than that, bud, but I like where your head's at."

"Have you checked out the orphanage downtown at all?" I ask, stacking Chelsea and Clay's empty plates on top my own. Adopting takes forever, you definitely have to go into it with a game plan. "Chad and I can introduce you to our adoption agent if you'd like?" I add, grabbing the last plate and squeezing Paula's shoulder as she spoons mashed bananas into Cali's mouth, mimicking chewing with great excitement.

"That would be great you guys. There's just so much to the process," Clay says, following me and Chelsea with empty serving dishes into the kitchen.

"Heck you guys could have a kid by your next birthday, Clay." Chad says, stacking glasses in the sink.

"I still can't believe it's been a year since Logan and Linden came along," Chelsea adds, as two little heads run through the room towards the TV, yipping and hollering.

"Slow down guys!" I say, flicking a towel at Logan's behind as he grabs a handful of cookies off the tray on the counter.

"The movie's coming on Mom! Hurry!" He yelps, skipping to the couch as I lean against the doorway watching.

"I don't know where the time goes," Chad says. He sneaks his hands around my waist, pressing a warm kiss to the top of my head.

"Gotta make the most of it, I guess," Clays says as he passes us, breaking into a slow motion run before diving dramatically over the back of the couch in between Linden and Logan's giggling bodies, pulling a blanket over the three of them.

"Did I hear something about a movie?" Paula says, her and Arthur walking in hand in hand, a sleepy Cali resting against Arthur's chest.

"That's the word on the street," Glen adds as he and Madison sneak in from the hallway. Pulling her down onto his lap in the recliner he turns his head towards us. "You guys gonna come in and watch or what?"

Chad squeezes my hands as he pushes me into the room. "After you, m'lady."

"Oh, I do declare," I say, flapping my hand in front of my face. "My hero!"

Sticking his tongue out at me, he whisks me off my feet and plops down on the floor next to Chelsea, dropping me into his lap.

"What are we watching any way?" I ask, reaching for the remote.

"Ooo it's a classic tale of love and murder and mystery and deceit!" Arthur says, wiggling his fingers at Lindon menacingly as her eyes widen in mock fear.

"I don't know if that sounds very kid friendly," I say, raising an eyebrow at Arthur as the kids whine in mortification.

"It's Aladdin," he whispers behind his hand before snatching the remote and pressing play.

"Now, on with the show!"

Looking around the room, I smile as Chad pulls me into his chest, his chin resting softly against my shoulder. My heart overflows with love for these people. The kids snuggling into Clay as Chelsea sits at their feet. Arthur with his arm around Paula, the baby sleeping quietly across their legs. Glen and Madison talking quietly between themselves in the chair. We're so blessed to be considered a part of this family, to be able to call them our own.

Then, I realize.

"Hey guys? Where's Spencer?"

Twisting their heads around, everyone looks about the room.

"Haven't seen her in a while, actually."

"Wasn't she cleaning up outside?"

"Maybe she went to the bathroom."

"Do you think she's sick?"

"Maybe she went for a walk!" Logan adds, his eyebrows peaked in revelation.

"Uhh…I think I found her," Linden says, pointing hesitantly towards the window.

Spencer stands outside the glass with her arms crossed, a lone twig of leaves sticking straight out of her ponytail, glaring from between the bushes.

"Oops. I think I locked the door when we came in." Glen says, as Madison bites her lip. "I thought we were the last ones!"

"Oh boy," Arthur mumbles, rubbing the back of his head. One time we forgot Spencer at the store. By the time we got back, she'd made three adults, two managers, and a whole group of Girl Scouts cry. And when I say one time, I mean that was just last week. Somehow we always seem to lose her, and she leaves only devastation in her wake.

Spencer points menacingly at the front door, eyebrow raised, one hand on her hip.

"Not it," I say, putting my finger on my nose.

Sighing, Chelsea stands as everyone else in the room repeats my action. "If I don't come back, this is on you guys."

Seeing Chelsea stand, Spencer jumps out of the flower bed, a spray of mulch hitting the window. Paula tisks under her breath.

"This is why my flowers never make it through to the spring, Arthur."

Chelsea hustles back to her seat on the floor as Spencer walks into the room, staring straight faced at each of us in turn.

"You're all dead to me."

The Disney theme fills the room as the castle pops up on the TV screen. Spencer's mouth drops open, a cloud of dirt drifting to the carpet as she claps her hands in glee.

"Oh cool! Aladdin!" She squeals.

Hurdling Chad's legs, she collapses onto her stomach in front of the TV, ankles locked and swinging happily over her butt.

The room stares quietly at her as she hums along with the opening song, her eyes following Aladdin jumping and sliding across the screen. Suddenly, she whips her head around, everyone jumping in return.

"Well?" She says, splaying out her hands, looking at everyone like she's surrounded by idiots. "Isn't anyone going to make popcorn?"

* * *

><p>Ashley<p>

"Are you sure you don't want some popcorn?" I asked, eyeing Kyla as she sits in her corner of the couch, cocooned in blankets.

"Yup," she says, flipping to some show about crocodile hunting or something.

I watch her, shoveling another handful of popcorn in my mouth. I can't really tell what's up with her lately. She's normally the sister with everything in order. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do if I have to be the put-together one. I'm pretty good at being a mess.

"It's really good," I add, bits of popcorn falling out of my mouth into the bowl as she flips to MTV.

"Ashley. Just eat the popcorn and shut your face."

"Yes, ma'm."

Touchy, touchy. You'd think she'd be a little nicer considering how many pieces of clothing I speed folded earlier. I had that room on lock by the time she showered. I could have blisters for all she knows. Fine. I'll eat the popcorn by myself. She flips to the Starz channel.

"You wanna watch a movie or something?"

"Yup," I say, edging closer to her and the pile of blankets. "You think I could have a little of that top blanket there?..."

"...Or maybe the one under it?..."

"...How about that one behind you?"

Turning to stare at me, Kyla squints as my hand pauses in mid air.

"Fine. Take this one." She says, tossing the top most blanket at the side of my head. Blowing my curls back out of my face, I grin and snuggle down under it, popcorn bowl in my lap.

"Much better. How about we watch that new one on-demand-" I start, when Kyla's phone rings. She glances at it and smiles, slipping out of her blankets as she presses the answer key.

"I'm just gonna take this real fast," she says, her hand over the receiver. "Pick whatever movie you want and don't eat all the popcorn in the house."

Scoffing, I throw a piece at her retreating form and snatch the remote. Like she'll eat the popcorn anyway. Flipping through the movie list, I try to find something interesting while the muted murmurs of her conversation echo from the other room.

Who could she be talking to? And why won't she talk to me? I feel like we've grown a part the last few weeks, which is partly my fault since I've been in my head a lot lately. Plus I've been working pretty much every evening shift and she's at work during the day. So that could be it.

I twirl a piece of hair around my finger as I pop another piece of popcorn into my mouth. A laugh erupts from her bedroom.

What the hell. I used to be the person who made Kyla laugh when she felt down. Throwing the bowl of popcorn on the end table, I cross my arms and listen hard. Who's edged me out of Kyla time...

I catch the end of her conversation as she swings her door open.

"Okay well I'll see you in a little bit… The front door's unlocked… Mhm. See ya."

Whipping my head around, I watch her as she sets her phone down on the arm of the couch and curls back into her blankets.

"Well."

Looking at me, she smiles. "Did you pick a movie?"

"I was waiting for you." I say, as she turns her head back to the TV. I guess she's not going to volunteer the information. "Who the heck was that?"

Can't beat around the bush when it comes to sister territory; got to get right down to business.

Clicking the select button on the controller, Kyla sets the remote down on the coffee table and grabs the almost empty popcorn bowl, turning towards the kitchen.

"Oh, Spencer. She's coming over for a little bit."

Furrowing my eyebrows, I jump up, rushing to catch up with her.

"Why will you talk to Spencer and not to me?" I say, reaching to touch her shoulder.

Kyla turns and her eyes meet mine. The same brown eyes my dad had. The same brown eyes I have as well. She looks sad.

"It's just a work thing, Ash. I don't want to bore you with the details."

Racking my brain, I can't think of a single time anything from work has really upset Kyla. I mean she gets frustrated and rants, or throws things and eats a ton of Chinese take-out, but never gets on-the-verge-of-tears upset. Watching her as she pulls some drinks out of the fridge and pops some fresh popcorn, I can't help but feel like this is a moment where things are changing, even if I'm not quite sure how.

What if Kyla is changing because I haven't? Is this my fault?

Running my hands through my hair, I sigh and nod at her as she turns to watch me, her hands on her hips.

"Alright, Kyla. I just…" pausing, I try to find the right words. Kyla stares at me expectantly.

"I don't want to lose you." I say. "Mentally or physically."

Smiling, Kyla bumps my shoulder as she pulls the popcorn out of the microwave and pours it into the bowl.

"Good Lord, Ashley, it's not like I'm dying."

Half laughing, I bump her hip and reach for the bowl as she grabs the drinks. "Yeah, sure, I know."

If this is what she wants, it's what she wants.

As the doorbell rings, Kyla plops the drinks onto the coffee table and hustles towards the door.

"I got it!"

I can't help but smile at her face. It's the happiest she's looked all day.

Settling down in my corner of the couch, I pull the popcorn onto my lap and munch halfheartedly. I'm sure she is really enjoying having a new close friend, but I'm still a little bitter that my awesome sister role is being replaced.

"So then they just locked me outside for like twenty minutes and no one even realized it!"

I hear as Spencer and Kyla emerge from the hallway, arm in arm. Spencer continues with animated facial expressions about something or other, her voice booming through the room. I like the way her eyes light up when she talks. And how she always uses her hands to exaggerate things. And how when she talks to me it's always a little bit softer then how she talks to everyone else.

And then she's in front of me, staring.

"Don't mind Ashley." Kyla says, sitting down in her blanket nest. "She's full of popcorn. It makes her a variety of emotions, but mostly sleepy," she adds, grabbing the bowl out of my lap.

Laughing, Spencer sits down on the couch between us, sprawling her legs out onto the coffee table next to mine. Sticking my tongue out at Kyla, I grab a bottle of water and take a sip before turning to Spencer and tilting my head.

"Hey."

Mirroring my movement, Spencer grins. "Hey."

Snorting, Kyla pops the bowl down into Spencer's lap.

"Seriously, you two are pathetic. Now what are we watching, ladies?"

"How about that new comedy?" Spencer points at the screen while passing the popcorn back to my lap. I move to sit Indian style around the bowl, shove a handful in my mouth, then rest my hands back on my knees.

Buttery bliss.

"That did look good," I add, thoughtfully chewing. Kyla selects it and hits the start watching button.

"I hope this is funny." She adds, sliding a blanket over to Spencer as she slips back under her own.

Nodding, Spencer takes the empty bowl out of my lap and sits it on the table, pulling the blanket over her legs as she leans back.

"It will be, don't worry."

Stretching out, I cross my ankles and set them next to Spencer's. Her feet are totally bigger than mine. Is she taller than me? I feel like we're the same size. Maybe she just has big feet. How have I not noticed this?

As the movie starts, my cheeks warm as I feel her hand slither hesitantly into mine, resting quietly there on my thigh, like a giant red blinking light for all the Kyla's in the world to see. And sure enough, Kyla clears her throat as she turns up the volume on the TV.

I sneak a peek around Spencer's profile to catch her watching our hands out of the corner of her eye, a smile playing on her lips. Then, she looks over at me and winks. I cough uncomfortably.

"Everything alright guys?" Spencer says, looking between Kyla and I.

"Doing good," says Kyla, turning back towards the movie as if she didn't totally just creep me out.

Spencer turns to me and everything pulls me in. Her smile, her wide blue eyes, the steady pressure of her hand in mine. The quiet husk of her voice against my ear.

"You okay?"

Tugging my arm away from hers, I wrap it around her shoulders, pulling her into my heart.

"I'm perfect."

* * *

><p><em>So I clasp his hand a little tighter. When he hugs me goodbye, I take a minute and I breathe him in.<br>_

_And every day that I catch him watching me, I smile at him and incline my head just a little, so one day he will realize that we may grow older, but we'll never grow a part. That a place in my heart will always be for him, no matter what.  
><em>

_ A way for him to know, I could never forget._


	10. Chapter 10

Hello everyone! I'm sorry for many things today. 1. that it took so long to post this. 2. that it's not nearly as long as the chapter I had in my head, which is frustrating, but my life is super hectic until Monday because I'm moving, which everyone knows is one of the worst things in the world beside maybe peeling wallpaper. So on that note, expect an update mid week with stuff and things.

This chapter goes out to abworkma, because I feel like this whole relationship is developing sloooowwww but at the same time, I like that. And I think it's realistic. And I like that you like that, too. :) Thanks for the review!

Now back to our girls...

* * *

><p>Spencer<p>

The first inklings of light edge along the horizon as I toss down my duffle and stretch my arms above my head, breathing deeply. I love everything about the morning. The dew, the air, the quiet; it just stems with possibility.

Bending low, I run my fingers through the sand before wrapping them around the toes of my shoes and sigh, relishing in the slow burn of the pull in my lower back. The cool breeze skims over my bare shoulders. I probably should have brought a sweatshirt.

Sand sprays against my calf as Kyla tosses her duffle at my feet.

"It's not even light yet Spencer."

Crossing my ankles, I continue my stretch, looking up at her.

"Good morning sunshine."

Kyla tugs on her hair, tightening her ponytail, then moves to mimic my stretch.

"Moooorrnninnggg." She drawls sarcastically, her voice muted against her legs.

"I'd like to point out that this was entirely your choice." Plopping down on my butt, Kyla follows suit, spreading her feet and bending to reach past her right toe.

"I didn't know 'I'd like to workout with you' meant I'd like to workout without the sun. I didn't realize it was one or the other Spencer."

Rotating my torso, I chuckle as Kyla grimaces with every pop and crack of my bones.

"It's peaceful Kyla. Look, we're the only two out here on the whole beach. We're at one with nature right now."

Scoffing, Kyla stands and dusts the sand of her thighs.

"Yeah, well I'm great at being at one with my bed at 5AM too."

Unzipping my bag, I start tossing objects out onto the sand, then lift out two giant weight bags, depositing one on each shoulder. Watching me as I walk around the beach setting up props, Kyla eyes a rope ladder with concern.

"Uhh what's the plan for today?"

Turning to her with a grin, I tip a nearby metal trash can, pulling cement blocks out from beneath it.

"Wait for it." I add, jogging towards the boardwalk. I pull a tire out from under the stairs and roll it back towards her, tipping it over in the sand, then spread my arms in a grand gesture.

"I give you: obstacle course."

Hands on her hips, Kyla looks from me to the pile of ropes and weights in front of her and sighs.

"Oh, hell."

* * *

><p>Ashley<p>

Coffee. Coffee, coffee.

6AM is an ungodly hour really. Peeking in the window of the bookstore, the lights are dark and Bing's office door is closed. Of course I'm the only one who couldn't sleep this morning. Hugging my cup a little closer to my chest, I breathe in the warmth, a purr of delight echoing in my throat.

I guess I'll check out the boardwalk since I've got an hour to burn until opening.

The breeze picks up around the corner, lifting my hair as I button the collar of my coat with a shiver. Pale reds and golds whisper across the sky, highlighting the choppy peaks of the morning waves. I get that whole morning is awesome thing yoga people rant about and stuff. It's pretty relaxing just being out here with no one else around. The steady rhythm of the ocean, the gentle sounds massaging at your mind, it's like a silent strength that seeps into your skin.

Of course I'd be the very last person to start waking up to see the sunrise, but I get it.

I nod at a jogger passing by and stuff my hand deeper into my pocket. No way I'd be running in those short shorts. Dude's got to be cold. Maybe if I ran I could sleep better? Ever since Kyla and I had our little break down a week ago, I've had a hard time sleeping. My whole schedule is a mess really, not that I'd let Kyla see that. She just thinks I'm tired from working so much. I can't help but worry about her. Ever since I moved back here, she's been so steady for me, I just wish I could repay the gesture, or at least understand why she feels like she can't talk to me, of all people. But I guess she will when she's ready, and I'll just keep worrying all hours of the night like a mother hen.

Passing my favorite bench, I sip the last of my coffee and watch the beach trucks sweeping the sand into clean, flat planes. You'd think more people would be out right now. Isn't that what people who live at the beach do? Jog or something? And yet I only see two people on the whole beach, who seem to be having some sort of race going on in the sand. Resting against the boardwalk railing, I watch as the two girls do weird step moves through something, jump over a stack of blocks, and squat to pick up sand bags on their shoulders, one of them seeming to taunt the other the whole time. They're clearly sweating even though the air still has its morning chill, so I'd bet they've been out here for a while. One of them runs past a black thing and drops the sand bag with a laugh, arms raised in victory.

I pause, coffee cup pursed at my lips.

I know that laugh.

Putting my hand up to hold back the hair blowing in my face, I look a little closer. I know that blonde hair, too! And I definitely know that brunette who's flipping handfuls of sand at the blonde.

Crunching up my coffee cup, I toss it in the trash can and duck my head against the wind, walking down the stairs towards the pair.

"Oh please, like it's such a surprise you beat me at the workout you do every day, Spence. Let's try to keep the celebration to a minimum, huh. Maybe a little humility would be a nice change of pace."

I can't help the grin that sneaks onto my face as Spencer beat boxes a dance beat and breaks into the running man. Kyla shakes her head, wiping a sheen of sweat off the back of her neck as she watches.

"I didn't realize you had such great moves," I say, coming up to stand beside Kyla, who jumps in surprise.

"Ashley!"

Spencer immediately stops dancing and tightens her ponytail nonchalantly, clearing her throat with a mild blush.

"What are you doing here?" Kyla asks, glancing at Spencer then back at me and fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

"Couldn't sleep so I came to work early." Rocking onto the balls of my feet, I clear my throat as Spencer finally looks at me with a half smile. "Good morning dancing queen."

Chuckling, she grins at me. "Good morning Ashley. How's your week been?"

"Oh good," I say, watching as Kyla squirms. Spencer nods then looks from Kyla to me and claps her hands together, backing away slowly.

"Well, good. I'm sure we'll catch up soon, so I'll just go ahead and give you two a minute." Kyla shoots her a look of protest, but she's already gone, her shoes leaving a trail of lazy square prints behind her. I feel Kyla's eyes on me as I study her retreating form.

"You really like her, huh?"

Glancing back at Kyla, I run my fingers through my hair and move to sit in the sand.

"Oh, I don't know. I mean we pretty much just met."

Raising an eyebrow, she looks to where Spencer has sat further down the beach with one of Kyla's sweatshirts on, her nose the only thing visible around the side of the hood. She looks peaceful.

"Well, I've never seen you look at someone the way you look at her, having just met or not. There's no shame in admitting you like her, you know."

Sighing, I shrug my shoulders.

"Yeah, I know. There's just a lot going on right now."

Silence falls between us as we both look out to sea.

"So." I start, pushing Kyla softly with my shoulder. "Exactly how long have you been secretly working out by the light of the moon?"

Kyla chuckles and pulls a bottle of water out of her bag, offering me one as well.

"Technically, this is my first time without the sun, but I've been training for a little over two weeks now." She skips a beat, taking a sip of water. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you—"

Raising my hand, she stops.

"Is that why you've been so distant lately? You didn't think you could tell me?"

For a moment she just studies me, peering out from under her crazy windblown bangs. Then she looks away.

"You know, ever since our little family fell apart, I've chosen to be the comforter. It was about making sure Mom and Dad were okay and it was about getting you back here with me. Then you actually came back and I realized how different you were and… how different I was. And I know that's on me, I chose to deal with things the way I did because I wanted our family to…survive this stupid ordeal. But this is my life, Ashley," she emphasizes, looking me square in the face. "I hate how it's turning out. This isn't the girl I want to be. I just… I need more."

She picks up a handful of sand and let's it sift through her fingers, falling back into place along the beach.

"I'm sorry I let it put space between us. I wanted to do this just for me, for once."

Resting my cheek in my palm, I steady my elbow on my knee and take in all the things she's said. Her cheeks are red and splotchy, her hair everywhere, and little chunks of dried sand are smeared across her torso. The soft lines and gentle comfort I've always found in Kyla are no more. There's a focus there, in her eyes, that fills me with reassurance as I wrap an arm around her and give her a squeeze.

"I'm sorry if you've ever felt like you had to set yourself aside because of all of us, and for pushing you to talk to me when you clearly weren't ready." I start as she lays her head against my shoulder. "Sometimes I forget that even though you're my little sister, you're not little anymore, and I can't always swoop in to rescue you, and you shouldn't have to for me either. If this is something you have to do alone, alright. But you should know that I'm so proud of you and I can't wait to see how well you do. So from now on I'll just be rooting for you, quietly, of course, like from the back row."

Laughing, Kyla flips sand onto my jeans.

"It's not a secret anymore Ash, so you can be as supportive as you want. But thank you for understanding."

"Absolutely," I say, looking over towards Spencer, who is lying on her back with her hands folded on her stomach. "So… Spencer?"

"…is a personal trainer." Kyla says sheepishly.

"Web of lies!"

Kyla takes another sip of water, pulling her cell phone out of her bag.

"I made her lie so don't be mad at her. You better head out of you're gonna make it to work on time. 15 minutes."

Nodding, I stand and brush the sand off my pants.

"I'll just go tell her goodbye," I say, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "No more lies, okay?"

"Scout's honor. Now go get your lady," she adds with an eyebrow wiggle.

Scoffing, I kick sand towards her while she squeals, then head towards Spencer's still form. Sitting down beside her, I peek into the hood pulled down over her face. Her eyes are closed, her chest rising and falling in slow, steady motion.

"Sleeping on the job!" I exclaim, poking her in the ribs as she jolts awake, sitting up and ripping the hood off her head.

"Sweet lord I think I wet myself," she mumbles, rubbing her eyes with her hands. Chuckling, I brush a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

"So," she says, giving me a sleepy smile. "I take it you've discovered I'm not the P.R. connoisseur Kyla suggest I was."

Butting my shoulder against hers, I shrug and stretch my legs out, digging my fingers into the beach.

"I always thought that was your worst quality anyway. Hello, boring. Plus, that explains the muscles at least. I was starting to think you midnighted as a superhero or something."

She grins, watching my hands, reaching to trace around the tips of my fingers in the sand.

"Who says I don't?"

Grabbing her fingers and wrapping them in mine, I pull her closer and whisper.

"How many dirty little secrets do you have?"

She jumps up with a laugh and starts to walk away from me. I jump up to follow her.

"I can't even get a ballpark figure?"

She looks over her shoulder and winks at me.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see, Ash."

My cheeks heat up at the nickname. I fall in step beside her, looking ahead to where Kyla sits watching the last of the sunrise.

"Hey Spence," I say, stopping. She turns, searching my eyes with concern.

"I know this is Kyla's thing and I can't be a part of it I guess, so, I… will you help her find her happiness?" I say, running my hands through my hair. Nodding, Spencer wraps her arm around my waist, leading us back towards Kyla.

"That's all I want for anyone, Ashley. Don't you worry," she adds with a squeeze. "She's in good hands."

Sighing, I nod and enjoy the comfort of Spencer's side against my own, watching Kyla stands as she spots us approaching. Spencer hums quietly under her breath, a soothing melody as warm as the kiss she presses against my temple. Sometimes I can't help but feel like maybe Spencer is the answer to everything, in so many ways.

"In fact," she murmurs into my hairs, "she may just be in a superhero's hands. I guess time will tell." Winking, she untucks me from her arm, reaching down to pick up her duffle.

"Come on Kyla, gym day."

Sighing with exaggeration, Kyla grabs her own bag, dragging it by its strap in the sand behind her.

"You know I have to be at work by 9, right?"

"Mhm," Spencer says, reaching to toss Kyla's bag on her other shoulder. "And Ashley has to be at work in…4 minutes. So, we'd better hustle."

"Holy crap!" I say, glancing at my cell phone. Bing's gonna kill me. "Let's book it people!"

* * *

><p><em>People say life works in two ways: endless lengths of monotony and same-old day-to-day, or, a series of events, either planned or otherwise, all happening at once. In retrospect, it's easy to see how one day can lead to the next. What we don't always see are the effects our choices have on the people around us. Eating a donut over a salad could ruin my health if I choose to do so every day, but it could also ruin my relationship with my kids when I can't be as active as they need me to be. These are decisions we make over time, things we control every day that we think add up to a big picture that becomes us: our beliefs, our priorities, our outcomes.<em>

_But those things, they're not "us," they're what we do.  
><em>

_Then something happens that we can't control, and the shock of those moments, the utter desolation that a single instant can cause and the way we react to it; those are the realities that come to define who we are. It's in those moments, we learn. _

_And, we live. Or at least, we try to.  
><em>


	11. Chapter 11

Hello hello! Well I posted at the beginning of this week, which is almost the beginning of last week. [sheepish grin] This one is extra long to make up for it.

This one goes out to the great . As I direct quote... yay! for you :) Thanks for the review!

Enjoyyyy

* * *

><p>Spencer<p>

"So, Ashley knows then?" Sara says over the sound of running water. Adjusting the phone on my chin, I unlock the front door and dump my bag on the floor. The mail hits the side table as I shuffle into the living room and collapse on the sofa.

"Yeah, she saw Kyla and I at the beach this morning. She had this super cute coat, like charcoal? Totally brought out her eyes-"

"Spencer, don't even-"

"And if she turns her head just right you can totally see how the brown fades from dark to light the closer it gets to her pupil. I wonder if she wears contacts." I stare at a piece of hair twirled around my finger.

"Spence, I'm gonna-"

"Although I did notice that Kyla has the same eyes and sometimes I think she gets weirded out because I forget to listen when she talks since every time she looks at me I wonder what Ashley is doing." Lunch bags crumple and a fridge closes.

"Okay Linden, pack that sandwich in yours and give Logan-"

"Sara! Are you even listening!"

Sara's throaty chuckle echoes over the line as Linden and Logan yell their hellos to me in the background.

"I don't really have any choice. You won't let me get a word in edgewise!"

Gasping in mock horror, I roll over on to my stomach and grab a workout magazine off the coffee table, flipping it open on the cushion.

"Well, pardon me. Do tell me about your day, instead." Wrappers crinkle and a cabinet door closes. It's cute how Sara makes the next day's lunches with her kids every night.

"Oh, just another day. Actually, I have a question. Do you think you could babysit for us tomorrow? Logan's parent-teacher conferences are in the evening, we figured we'd just make it a date night."

The kids erupt in cheers at the same time I do.

"But there will be rules!" Sara yells over the three of us. "And enforced bed times and absolutely no water-ballooning of food delivery people whatsoever, or Spiderman warfare. There's still silly string stains on the ceiling upstairs from last time."

We all groan and sigh.

"We may as well just go to bed at six! What is this, prison?" I say, tossing my magazine back on the coffee table and sitting up.

"You're lucky your babysitting ban is even lifted, Spencer."

"Fair point." I say, heading into the kitchen. "What time do you want me?"

Laughing as the kids whoop, Sara shoos them away, closing a door.

"Just plan on being here around 5 and we'll be back sometime…in the next week…" She mumbles under her breath. Grinning, I nose through my fridge. My phone beeps a call on the other line, so I check the screen.

Ashley.

"Sounds good, Sar. Take all the time you need, but, hey, I gotta go, Ashley's on the other line."

Clucking her tongue, I can hear the smile in Sara's voice.

"Ooo la la! Go get em' Tiger!"

I grunt a quick good bye and switch to the other line, mustering up the best accent I can.

"Yahloo."

Ashley pauses and clears her throat.

"Oh...I... um, hi. Is Spencer there?"

"Oh das no boys here, no."

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry I must have-" Ashley starts, speaking quickly.

"Ashley." Silence.

"I hate you."

Laughing, I grab a bag of carrots and head back to the couch.

"So, how exactly did you come across my number, Miss Davies?"

I smile as Ashley mumbles hesitantly into the phone.

"I paid Kyla for it."

"Does that make her my pimp?" Snacking on a carrot, I cross my legs. "Gosh, suddenly I feel self conscious about all those days I only wore a sports bra around her."

Ashley chuckles; a bag rustles on her end.

"I find it hard to believe that a girl who answers unknown numbers on her phone in a Swedish accent is ever really self conscious. What if it had been someone important?"

"Bah, I knew it was you." I say, then snap my hand over my mouth. Crap.

"And how did you know that, Spencer?" She says slyly.

I groan.

"I paid Kyla for your number last week."

Ashley bursts into laughter.

"Man," she says, the crunch of chips muffling her voice. "That girl is making a killing off of us."

"She's good." I say. "You know eating chips with a personal trainer on the other end of the line is just asking for a lecture. I would bet money that those aren't baked chips, lady."

Chuckling, Ashley crunches on another chip loudly, smacking her lips in satisfaction.

"Mm cool ranch. My favorite."

Shaking my head, I snap into another carrot.

"You're asking for it. How was your day?"

"Oh you know," she starts, the TV turning on in the background. "Books and stuff. Bing's getting ready to move out of his crappy beach hut, so I'm probably going to have to pick up even more hours."

"You'll be working like 600 hours a week! Does that store ever close! Is it open in another dimension, too?"

The sound of the channels flipping rapidly almost drowns out the happy crunches of Ashley's chips.

"It's starting to feel like it. Bing's a good friend, though, so I don't mind helping him out while he's getting his junk sorted. But yeah, anyone else and I'd have quit and sold my hair for money instead."

Chuckling, I flip my TV on too.

"Thank God you didn't do that. I wouldn't talk to you if you were bald."

Ashley gasps.

"You sure know how to make a girl feel good."

"Remember when Brittany Spears shaved her head? I know what comes with the shaved head; lots of crazy. Man, that was a great time, though. She was entertaining in so many ways."

"I'll be honest. I still sing Lucky in the shower."

"I may or may not have her first cd in my car, right now."

Laughing, Ashley settles on the news and continues her crunching. I pull a blanket down around me and snuggle into it, turning on my DVR.

"So what does your tomorrow look like?"

"Bookstore until noon, then I have the afternoon off. Actually, that's kind of why I called. Do you want to get dinner or something?"

Scrunching up my eyebrows, I blow my bangs out of my eyes.

"What if I have a better offer for you. Let's say, an offer you can't refuse."

"Oh? Intriguing. Well, I'm listening."

"How do you feel about hanging out with me and Sara's kids? I'm supposed to babysit tomorrow. I hear, there will even be dinner." I say, listening to Ashley's steady breathing in the receiver.

"That sounds great. Are you sure I'm not cutting in, though? I know you don't get to see them one on one very often."

"No it's totally cool. I can come pick you up around like 4:30? Is that alright?"

Ashley pauses, the measured tones of the evening news droning in the background.

"Uhh yeah that's good. I'll text you my address later."

Smiling, I turn my show back on and close up my bag of carrots.

"Excellent. So what's your favorite TV show?"

Ashley chuckles, more relaxed now.

"Castle, of course. The comedy, the mystery, what more could a girl want."

"And Beckett is gorgeous." I add. Ashley snorts.

"And, Beckett is gorgeous."

* * *

><p>Ashley<p>

Checking the time on my phone, I run my fingers through my hair one more time, trying to get some of the frizz out.

You're just hanging out with some kids, Ashley. Come on.

The knock on the door is hesitant but loud, and I smile automatically. Definitely Spencer.

"Hey." She says, bouncing on her heels outside the entry way with a smile. "308's a nice number."

I laugh. Well, at least she likes the door.

"Yes, I had to wait many weeks to ensure I got apartment 308. Just felt right, you know?" I say, inviting her in. "How was your morning?"

She walks past me, then turns and pulls me into a quick hug.

"It was good. Kyla's a monster lately. I think I'm gonna let her actually see a scale next week before she rips my face off. How was work?" She adds, running her finger along the table inside my door as I walk towards the living room.

"Bing called 1,000 times because he'd rather be at the shop then moving. So today was kind of annoying."

Spencer chuckles and looks around the living room, coming to stand beside me as I pull down a blind.

"So, what do you do with all the money you earn from working 600 hours a week, besides, you know, not buy furniture?"

Turning around, I take in the space. A recliner. A pillow. One side table with a book on it. A TV. The kitchen, empty besides a microwave on the counter. A single picture on the fridge. If she went down the hall to my room, she'd see a mattress on the floor and a pile of clothes in the closet. I shrug.

"I don't need a lot to stay entertained."

Spencer laughs.

"I think that may be the understatement of the century. It looks like whoever lives here moved out 4 months ago and this is what's left. We should paint or something."

I smile and give her a gentle push towards the door.

"What you don't like this tone of neutral? I think it's the perfect shade of off-white. We'd better get going if we're going to get there by 5."

She walks backwards, as if writing every part of the room to her memory, then grabs my jacket off the counter, holding it out for me to put on.

"You're not boring enough for neutral. You can try, but it's just not you."

Sighing dramatically, I follow behind her as she exits, and turn to lock the door with my key.

"Well, a girl can only try, I guess. Where are you parked?"

"Behind the building, by the creepy rusted dumpster. Not the one with the broken couch and half burned end tables next to it. The next one up, with the graffiti that says 'hoes don't know.'"

Her hand brushes against mine and I weave our fingers together, laughing as I pull her towards the back stairs.

"That's a surprisingly accurate description."

"Yes, well, I'm very observant."

"I seem to remember Kyla telling me a story about you falling into the ocean one day when you two were running on the beach."

"Right." She blushes and squeezes my hand. "Okay, I'm sporadically observant."

The ride over to Sara's is twenty minutes of easy chatter, dramatic singing of 80's hits, and occasional animal calls out the window, to whatever unsuspecting bird or beast may be within hearing range. Actually, it was fairly impressive how eerily well Spencer imitates most animal sounds. I'm pretty sure the last seagull we passed turned to follow the Jeep for a few minutes.

"Here we are, then."

Sara's house is a pleasant split level starter home tucked a few miles off the highway exit in a cul-de-sac neighborhood. Light yellow siding and stone give the house a cozy, storybook feel, complete with outlines of tiny Logan and Linden handprints in the cement driveway. Spencer bumps my shoulder and gives me a smile as we start up the brick front walk, meandering between the flower beds to an inviting blue door. As Spencer raises her fist to knock, the door shoots open to reveal a blonde boy with a head of curls standing in a cape, a Nerf dart gun tucked in his hip holster.

"Hiya Spence! I've been waiting for you to come since I got home from school! I got your cape out, too!" He says, reaching to tug on Spencer's hand. I smile at his obvious affection for her as his brown eyes turn towards me.

"Oh. Hi! I'm Logan. Who are you?"

Spencer ruffles the hair on top of his head and laughs. "Logan, this is me and your Mom's friend, Ashley. Ashley. Meet the High Lord Emperor of the house, Sir Logan."

"Pleasure to meet you, your majesty," I say, curtseying slightly as Logan blushes and reaches to grab my hand.

"I like her, Spencer. She's gonna wear your cape instead," he says, pulling me in the house behind him.

"Geez, I see how I rank," Spencer says, reaching for my coat to put on the hall rack beside hers. "Sara! We're here!"

Pounding feet sound from further inside as a second head of blonde curls slides around the corner.

"Spencer! I'm starving, let's make dinner! Oh, hi! I'm Linden," she says, reaching out a hand to shake.

"Ashley," I say, with a grin, grasping her little hand gently. Sara smiles at the interaction, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she comes into the hallway. I'm not surprised her kids are as pleasant as she is.

"Hey girls, come on in out of the hall. Ashley, this is Chad," she adds, patting a man with curly brown hair and glasses on the stomach as she passes him on her way towards the kitchen.

"Pleasure to meet you," I say, giving him a nod as he smiles knowingly at me.

"So you're the infamous—" He starts, then gasps as Spencer elbows him hard in the stomach, putting a hand on my lower back and pushing me after Sara.

"Chad will be here later. He's got to get ready now." She adds. "Hey Sara, do you want us to make anything in particular for dinner?"

"Nah, you already know the rules. Stick with those and you can decide the rest," she says, folding the towel over the stove handle. "So, Ashley, this is my house. Please don't let Spencer and the kids ruin it." She comes around the kitchen island and pulls me into a hug as Chad stands in the doorway, still grimacing, shrugging on his coat.

"It's good to see you again, Ash."

"Good to see you too, Sara. Your house and kids are beautiful."

She smiles, and swats my arm as Chad moves to hold her coat out for her.

"Hey what about her husband!" I laugh as Spencer snorts and pushes them towards the front door.

"Get out of here you two, Ashley and I will take care of everything, so don't come back early. Enjoy your date."

Amid goodbyes and rustling purses and coats and the kids and Spencer calling out snacks they want brought back from their date, Sara and Chad barely squeak out the door with all their limbs. The door shuts with a decisive click, and all three blondes turn to face me with excited grins on their faces.

"uhh guys..."

"DINNER TIME!" They all yell at the same time, Spencer grabbing my hand as they race past me whooping and jumping. Logan looks back and grabs my other hand, kicking out in a crazy dance.

"Come on Ashley, you're gonna love this!" I laugh and slide up beside him on to the kitchen counter. Linden rustles around in the pantry, then turns to Spencer, who stands by the stove with her eyes closed tight.

"No peeking right Spencer?" Linden says, brushing her hair back behind her ear with utter seriousness. Logan looks at her and grins, then at Spencer and laughs, swinging his feet happily while patting a little beat on the top of my hand. Now, I understand what Sara means when she says Spencer and Logan have the same energy level. It's like it's inside them just bursting to get out every which way.

"Nooo peeking, Lin. Promise."

I watch as Linden pulls out different things from the pantry, setting them side by side on the island. She gives me a small smile as she sets the last down.

Walnuts. A package of vanilla pudding. Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal. Raisins. A block of Cream Cheese.

"Okay Spence, open them."

Spencer opens her eyes and looks at the objects on the island, crossing her arms with a thoughtful look on her face.

"What's happening?" I whisper to Logan, who is watching eagerly.

"Spencer let's us pick five different ingredients and then she has to use all five in whatever she makes for dinner. It's like a game!" He says under his breath, without tearing his eyes away from the scene. "She's never lost yet!"

"What happens if she loses?"

"We get to draw on her in permanent marker."

I bust up laughing, interrupting the serious expression on Spencer's face as she glances to grin at me. Cracking her knuckles, she clears her throat.

"You must all leave! I must work in silence! Perfection takes time!" She gives my butt a flick with a dish towel as I jump out of the kitchen after the kids. "You too! Get out of here!" She adds with a grin.

"Pushy, pushy!" I say, following the kids down some stairs into a basement TV room. After an hour of quality cartoon time and talking with Logan and Linden, Spencer pops her head around the corner into the room.

"Ladies and Gentleman. Dinner is served."

The two blonde heads run up the stairs to wash their hands as Spencer smiles warmly at me, pulling me in for a quick hug.

"You having a good time?"

I nod and give her hip a bump.

"I am. I sure hope dinner is good. I'd hate to cover that pretty face with marker later."

Chuckling, Spencer follows me up the stairs and into the breakfast nook, where the kids and a mysterious covered pan are waiting.

"Oh I bet you would. Alright everyone!" She claps, taking a seat and folding a napkin into her lap. "I present… crunchy stuffed French toast."

Logan sits on his knees to lean closer to the plate of baked bread, which smells so good I instantly start drooling.

"Oh man!" Logan exclaims. "How'd you use everything this time?"

"Well," Spencer starts, spooning pieces onto everyone's plate. "The stuffed part is the pudding, cream cheese, and raisins, with some other stuff, all put between the bread, which is coated in the cereal and walnuts crushed up, among other things. Plus love and also some awesome. And then I baked it. So, let's test it out."

I smile as the kids dig in, exuberantly feeding their faces. Taking a sip of milk, I cut my French toast and moan when it hits my tongue, the sweet mix of vanilla and cinnamon pairing well with the raisin and syrup. Looking up to give Spencer my compliments, I catch her staring at me, fork paused in the air, mouth slightly open.

"Sorry," I blush at the same time Spencer does. "It's just really good."

After dinner, three games of twister, two movies, and two quick rounds of flashlight tag in the basement, Spencer is upstairs tucking the kids into bed as I try to put the living room back into order.

"I never pegged you for a narc, Miss Davies."

I laugh, tossing a pillow back up on the couch.

"Linden said she'd braid my hair if I told her where you were. How was I supposed to turn down an offer like that?"

Spencer smirks at me and plops down on couch, stretching her hands above her head.

"Touche." I try not to stare at the sliver of her stomach that peeks out from under her shirt. "So what do you want to do now?"

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I sit down facing her on the couch, slipping my feet under her legs.

"I vote we relax. I'm worn out."

So we talk, about anything really; what Spencer's brothers are like, how she tried to catch the tooth fairy until she was eleven, how Kyla and I shared a room as little girls, and what it's like being allergic to lady bugs. How hard sticking to a healthy lifestyle can be; what it was like when my family fell apart. And it's natural, the way the conversation flows, the burn in my belly as Spencer's eyes meet mine.

An hour later Sara and Chad are sneaking in the front door, trying not to wake the kids as Spencer and I sit facing each other on the couch, our legs entangled between us under a blanket. Sara squeezes Spencer's shoulder as they join us in the living room, sitting together on the opposite sofa.

"Oh wow guys, 10:45. You painted the whole town red in record time."

Sara sticks her tongue out as Chad folds his arm around her shoulders.

"Shut it, Spence. We're old, tired people." Turning to me, she smiles. "Thanks for making sure we had a house to come home to, Ash. How was everyone?"

"Oh the kids were great, really no problems at all." I say, turning to Spencer as she stands up beside me.

"Yep. Easy peasy guys. We're excellent babysitters." I think about the massive amount of dishes we left in the sink and grin, nodding slowly.

"Well, we'd like to take you two to dinner sometime soon in repayment if that's alright?" Chad says, standing with Sara as I fold the blanket and lay it back on the couch.

"If it's good with Ash, it's good with me," Spencer says, raising an eyebrow at me as the pair pull her into a hug.

"Yep, sounds good." I add, receiving a hug of my own. "You guys can sit back down, we can see ourselves out."

They wave from the couch as we exit down the hallway and out the door, slipping into our jackets along the way.

Spencer winks at me as she opens my car door, then walks around the front of the Jeep to get in her own.

"Hey do you think we could make one more stop?" I ask as we pull back onto the highway. "Just take the next exit. I want to show you something." Spencer nods and hums along with the music, her hand sliding into mine on the center console.

We drive along in silence, enjoying the night air as it slips in the open windows, whipping through our hair. As we get closer to the beach, the buildings begin to thin out, bungalow houses lining the road as it changes from four lanes to two.

"This is nice. Not commercialized." Spencer says, turning down the radio as we drive into a main street area with some businesses, a few people waving as we pass through. "Some of these side streets don't even have street lights."

"Mhm," I say, nodding at a friendly couple standing outside a café. "Take the first left around this turn."

We do, and the road curves down, butting up against the shoreline, houses popping up along its curve. A rustic clapboard on stilts, a cat watching us pass on its porch. A salmon-colored two story with blue shutters and a beach chair in the front yard. The salty smell of the ocean fills the car as Spencer waves at a family sitting amid tiki torches, playing volleyball in their side yard and grilling in the dark.

"Okay, pull over at the next one." I say, leaning over the console to look out Spencer's window. A weathered green A-frame sits in front of us, surrounded by a mostly present picket fence. A shutter groans and bangs against the house, swinging crookedly from the one screw still holding it in place. We exit the car, Spencer resting her hands in her pockets as I come around the car to meet her in front of the crooked slats in the fence.

"Come on," I say, slipping my arms in hers. "See it from the back."

We walk around the side of the house, where the moon casts a bright light over the floor to ceiling windows looking out over the sea. The inside of the house is dark, but holes in the interior walls are clearly visible even at night.

"Well, someone lived here who liked to have a good time," Spencer says, peeking through her hands into the window. "But, man, is this some location. This view is gorgeous."

I chuckle as I come up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pull her back into my chest.

"Indeed." I said, setting my chin on her shoulder. "Bing lived here."

Spencer laughs and wipes some grime off the window pane.

"Well that explains why they're moving. What'll happen to it now?"

I slip away from her, put my hands on my hips and look up at the moonlit silhouette.

"Whatever I want, I guess. I bought it from him under the table, signed the paperwork this morning."

Spencer turns to look at me, her mouth open and an eyebrow quirked.

"I know it needs some work, but I think it'll be good for me. Give me something to be proud of and all that." I add, as her eyes measure me up.

"I think," Spencer starts, pulling my hips into hers, her arms resting loosely around my waist. "It's perfect."

I feel the warmth sneak up my neck and into my cheeks as she studies me, her eyes a deep blue in the reflecting moon, skin glowing a soft white and framed by the loose waves of her wind-blown hair. The tide crashes against the shore somewhere behind us, but I barely hear it over the soft patter of her heart, pressed to my chest as she touches her forehead gently against mine, her lips murmuring delicate thoughts in the tender space between us.

"I think you're perfect."

She gasps as my fingers lace through her hair, gripping, yearning, pulling her into me. I feel her lips against mine and _this… _this is what they talk about. This explodes behind my eyes. The prickling heat that rips up my neck as her fingers trail my back, tangling in my hair. Every part of me is a part of her, pressed tight, grasping, erupting in the sensation of her body against mine. A sizzling hiss slips as her teeth close firmly on my lower lip, her breath quivering with the pressure of my thumb tracing along her collarbone.

"Spence," I whisper as her mouth leaves mine, quick puffs of warmth chasing shudders up my spine as her nose presses into my neck.

A breathy utterance sighs into my skin.

"Ashley."

Our chests slow with the beating of our hearts, clutched together in the sand spattered dimness of my backyard. The wind is cool as it whips around us but between us, a fire burns, as bright as the moon above.


	12. Chapter 12

Hello all. Has it been a while since I posted? It was like the tropics in Ohio this past weekend, so now I have sun poisoning on my back. And I'd act like it was from something fun but it was from power washing my house, which is no longer mice infested. So many victories! Go team! I'm too young to be this old, I swear.

This chapter goes to ashleyss27. I know you already had one but I wrote it and I say yes! and also, no, i love you. And how's the workouts coming?

* * *

><p>Kyla<p>

Spencer's quiet humming echoes through the empty weight room as I pull the glass door shut, dropping my work out bag on the floor. I've come to enjoy this early morning business Spencer's slowly pounded into my head, especially when we're the only two in the whole wellness center. It's like super focus time.

"Morning Kyla." Spencer says, raising weights above her head as she slides into a squat. Holding the position, she exhales slowly and grunts at me. "How was your night last night?"

Grabbing dumbells of my own, I fall into place beside her and start to stretch out my upper body.

"Just another Wednesday night. I did get a twenty minutes jog in at the beach. Almost two miles."

"Nice!" Spencer says, dropping the weights on the padded floor as she stands, rotating her arms like a swimmer. "Just be careful, you know how I hate you working out by yourself while your body is still adjusting to being active."

Nodding at her, I pick up my weights and start my own squat session. Spencer's constantly reminding me that I should always work out with a buddy because, until she's given me a new set of physical fitness tests, she doesn't trust my body to handle distance, and heat, and sweating, and list of other factors that's like legit three minutes long. She's such a Mom.

"So." I say, switching to bicep curls. "Ashley came over to talk last night."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I guess running two miles doesn't really compare to the excitement of buying a house."

Laughing, Spencer drops down from the pull up bar.

"One. That is too exciting. And two, she took me there last night. Even from the outside it's very... Ashley."

Dropping my weights on the floor, I settle into a plank position, watching Spencer as she jumps rope.

"She may have mentioned that you were present..." I start, dropping my head down to keep the sweat out of my eyes. At a minute, I relax and glance back at Spencer with a knowing smile. "... as were your lips."

Blushing, Spencer pauses at the top of a crunch, a sheepish grin spread across her face.

"Mhm." I say, starting a plank again. "That's what she looked like, too."

Unfolding herself, Spencer stretches out on her back, her hands clasped under her head.

"Does it bother you that me and Ashley hang out, Kyla? Because you come first, you know. If you're uncomfortable, I'll stop seeing her."

Crawling towards her, I lay on my stomach next to her on the mat, propping my chin on my hand as her eyes turn towards me.

"You know, I worry about Ashley, a lot actually, but she's been different since she met you. It's like, she's trying again, not just spinning her wheels. And I may not have known you for very long, but a blind guy could see how happy you two are together. Seriously, it's disgusting. So, no. It will never bother me that two of my favorite people are getting to know each other on whatever level you guys are. I think it's a good thing."

Spencer nods and looks back at the ceiling.

"That being said," I add, poking her in the side of the head. "You hurt her, you die. Got it?"

"Crystal clear."

"Good." I add, turning over on my back. We lay for a second in silence. "So, how was it?"

Spencer bursts out laughing and sits up, looking over her shoulder at me.

"Kyla! I would never kiss and tell."

"Oh come on!"

Chuckling, Spencer stands up and tosses a jump rope on top of me.

"Move it, Davies."

"I'll jump rope for three minutes straight if you rate it on a scale of one to ten."

Slipping on lifting gloves, Spencer stretches her hand and fastens the velcro, measuring me up.

"Three minutes, no stopping?"

Nodding, I stand up, the jump rope in hand.

"No stopping."

Spencer slips on her other glove and sits down on the bench press, her hands resting on her knees.

"On a scale of one to ten... mmm I'd give it a 73. Thousand. Actually I'm not sure my heart has restarted yet, because it definitely stopped. How's that?"

Shaking my head at her, I grin.

"Girl, you got it bad."

"Not as bad as you're about to," she says, sliding down under the weight bar. "Three minutes lady, get going."

* * *

><p>Ashley<p>

"So the sink in the basement is a bad life decision?"

"Unless you're interested in owning a gyser, do NOT turn those faucets." Bing says, cutting the tape on a box of new book deliveries. "The beach house has a lot of... character…like that."

"God love me," I mumble, blowing a curl off my forehead. "If this house falls in on me you better sponsor one hell of a funeral party in my honor, buddy."

"Bag pipes and everything."

"Not exactly what I had in mind," I laugh, stacking books on the push cart. The bell over the door jingles as Bing smirks at me, pushing another box of books into my arms.

"Hello Bing, Ashley." Paula says, approaching the counter as she pushes her sunglasses on top of her head. "It's so nice out today! How are you two?"

"Wonderful Mrs. Carlin." Bing starts. "Me and the misses just got a new house and Ashley here took the old one off my hands. So, she may not be as good..." He adds from behind his hand.

"Oh congratulations, Ashley! A homeowner! That's so exciting!" I laugh as Paula raises her hand to high five me over the counter.

"Thanks Paula. I'm still trying to figure out if it was a good decision or not."

"Oh you'll love it, all that space that's just yours, now you just have to make it your style!" She says, setting her purse down on the counter. "Have you started looking at decor? What colors are you thinking?"

Groaning, Bing clears his throat and backs away slowly with a nod. "I get enough of this color talk at home, so I'll just let you ladies do your thing."

Paula and I chuckle as he high tails it into his office, closing the door behind him.

"Oh I don't think I'm anywhere close to picking out colors yet," I say, pricing the next box of books as Paula leans over to pick one up and flip through it. "You're more than welcome to come out and see it, Paula. I could use a little guidance in interior decorating, trust me."

Paula's face lights up as she places the book on the stack I just finished.

"Really?" She says, brushing a blonde hair behind her ear in a motion Spencer mirrors to the tee. Like mother, like daughter, I guess.

Grinning at her, I nod my head and chuckle.

"Of course! I have an open door policy at my house. Friends can stop by any time. So, just let me know when and I can give you directions."

Paula studies me for a minute, her head tilted. Apparently decided, she reaches for a business card.

"That sounds wonderful, Ashley. I could use a little girl time anyway." She shoulders her purse and grabs a pen, scribbling her number on the back. "I'm actually off the next couple of days, so if you have a time in mind, you just let me know what fits your schedule."

Grabbing a card off the stack, I write my number down as well and slip it across the counter to her.

"I'm off work in a few hours if you're feeling up to it. You can follow me out there and we'll just see what we can get into." I say, laughing internally as Paula eagerly types my number into her phone, clearly very excited.

"Sounds great!" She says, dropping her phone back into her purse. "I've got some shopping to do in the area, so just call me when you're done and I'll meet you."

"Alright Paula," I say, giving a little wave as she walks towards the door. "Have a good morning!"

"See you in a bit!" She smiles, a little extra bounce in her step. Adorable.

* * *

><p><em>"Hey!"<em>

_"Hey Ky, what's shakin'?"_

_"Spencer and I were going to catch some dinner tonight. It okay if she brings me by your place?"_

_"Kyla. I have your copy of the key sitting here on the counter. Get on out here."_

_"Just wanted to make sure if it was okay if I showed up with your lady friend... in case you wanted... alone time..."_

_"If you just wiggled your eyebrows I have a punch waiting for when you get here, too."_

_"I'm not scared of you, weenie. What is all that noise anyway? Is someone singing to Backstreet Boys?"_

_"Ohhhh just working away out here. We'll see you when you get here. Bye Ky!"_

_"We? Who's we? Ashley!"_

* * *

><p><em><em>Spencer

Kyla's hair whips me in the face as she puts her window down, careening around cars on the highway while banging her head along with the radio.

"Seriously Kyla, I'm not gonna be hungry for dinner if I keep eating your hair. Can we slow down a little?" I yell over the music, wedged with arms extended between the dash and door panel, trying not to slide across the leather and out the window to my immediate death, as compared to the pending one we're clearly driving towards.

"Kyla!"

"Oh geez, sorry Mom. Gosh you're worse than Ashley." She says, turning the radio down. "Which exit do I take now?"

"I apologize for wishing to remain with the living. This one." I swallow a squeal as Kyla slams on the brakes, squeezing in between two cars, then jams down on the gas, rocketing into the exit lane.

"I'm kind of pumped to have Ashley live out here. Think about all the activities we can do now! Bonfires! Beach camping! Fishing! Can you fish at the beach? Spencer? Why are you so pale?"

Staring at the back of the stopped truck we're quickly approaching as Kyla watches me, I point forward and she turns, curses, and stands on the brakes again.

"Good call, Spence. Hey, this town is cute."

Note to self. I drive, indefinitely.

"Mhm." I choke out. "Follow that road and her house is the fourth one down."

As we round the turn I spot Ashley's car. And my Mom's.

"Who else is here? Ashley doesn't have friends." Kyla says chuckling, spraying Ashley's car with a wave of dirt and sand from the road as she stops.

Ashley's brown curls pop out the front door then turn as she yells something over her shoulder. Bobbing down the front steps, she smiles at me through the windshield as she makes her way around the car, opening my door.

"Hey you," she grins, leaning in to kiss me lightly on the cheek. "Your Mom is here."

"I noticed," I add, slipping out of the car as Ashley winks at me, making her way around the car to pull Kyla into a hug where she stands, staring at the house with her hands on her hips.

"So!" Ashley says to her, squeezing her shoulders. "What do you think?"

Kyla nods.

"I like it. Very cool shape, minus all the falling apart bits there. Totally great purchase Ash. Also, can you fish at the beach?"

Laughing, Ashley pats her back and follows behind her down the front walk, reaching back in search of my hand. Rolling my eyes with a dramatic sigh as she raises an eyebrow at me, I slip my fingers into hers and give them a squeeze.

The front porch's sigh echoes mine as the three of us step onto it. Kyla pauses to peek in a window.

"Yeah I'm not sure how sturdy this is so we should definitely hustle inside." Ashley mutters, pulling me around Kyla and in the door behind her. Laughing, at Kyla's face, I gasp as my feet take their first step onto the light wood floors.

The foyer opens into a large living room with high peaked ceilings, rustic beams spanning across the width. Large parts of the walls are broken in, chunks of drywall and spackle splayed across the flooring mixing with broken tile from a huge fireplace. Walking towards the full two story windows, I lay my palm against the cool glass and whistle under my breath.

"So is that a good whistle or a bad whistle?" Ashley says, placing a warm hand upon mine on the window pane as she wraps her arm around my waist. "What do you think from the inside?"

Turning to face her, I smile.

"My original opinion stands. This wood work is beautiful. And the floors! Who needs walls anyway," I add, playfully patting her cheek.

Ashley's face falls from an joyous grin to an exaggerated pout.

"Girls!" We both jump as Mom walks in from a hallway, hands full of paint splotch cards, her cheeks tinted pink with excitement. Ashley and I's arms fall from each other's waists as she walks towards us, pulling both our bodies in for a tight hug.

"Isn't this great, guys? Just us girls. Spencer what do you think of plum for in here? Really pops with the blue of the ocean, right? Now where's this Kyla I've been hearing so much about..." She murmurs, heading off with her color samples to find an unsuspecting Kyla.

"And how exactly did my Mom come to be here again?" I say, laughing as her disheveled blonde hair heads into the next room. Ashley shrugs.

"I needed reinforcements."

We both watch as she shoots back across the living room, determined that Kyla must be in the other half of the house.

"She's incredibly focused." Ashley adds, nuzzling her head against mine. Grabbing my hand, we head down the opposite hallway. "Come on, let me give you the full tour."

The house is open and all together lovely, even with the various destroyed parts that make me wonder if Bing drove a go-cart in here prior to moving. Skimming through the rooms with Ashley's rolling commentary, I wink at Kyla as we snicker in passing, her eyes wide and frightened by my Mom's grip-lock hello hug.

"Ashley and you just look so much alike! I'm Spencer's Mom!"

Ashley and I burst into a new round of chuckles as we reach the last stop on the tour, a squat back room with two single floor to ceiling windows, open to let the slight sting of sea salt fill the air. The opposite wall branches into a giant master bath with matching windows and a claw foot tub set between them. A side door off the bathroom opens into a closet, stacked with shelves and hanging bars.

"And this will be my room." Ashley wraps up, resting her hand around the handle on the bathroom door. "It's smaller than the guest rooms, but it feels more open I think and I like the natural sunlight."

I slide my fingers along the rim of the tub. This is totally the room I would have picked too.

"Hey girls, Kyla and I are thinking pizza for dinner?" Mom says, hovering behind Ashley in the bathroom doorway. Ashley says something and Mom grins down at her, squeezing her shoulder as she bubbles up with laughter. They're cute, the way they're all buddy buddy.

"Spencer?"

"Oh, yeah Mom that sounds great." Ashley gives me a strange look as she turns to follow my Mom.

"Come on Paula, I'll show you where the phone book is."

Before I know it, the pizza is here and Kyla and my Mom are gathering plates out of packed boxes as Ashley and I search for paper towels and beverages. Gathered in the living room, the sunset glows through the glass wall. Kyla sits at my feet peeling the cheese off her pizza, talking about some new book coming out with Ashley as my Mom pours water into plastic cups for the four of us, nodding along with the conversation. She catches my eye and gives me a little smile, handing me a cup.

"You need anything else, Spence?"

"Nah. This is great." I add, chuckling as Ashley leans over to steal the cheese off Kyla's plate to stack on her own pizza.

The conversation is warm even as the pizza gets cold, and when Ashley cheers at discovering a hidden bottle of wine Bing left, I can't help but feel like this moment is the beginning of many to come; that somehow all the days I had up until these three women came to be in my life were spent searching for the comfort I've found, simply sitting, drinking wine out of a Dixie cup, with my dear friend, my Mom, and my… other dear friend.

Kyla and Ashley take the plates into the kitchen as Mom and I gather up the trash. Holding the empty bag for me, Mom raises an eyebrow as I put the pizza box in.

"So. This quiet, thoughtful Spencer is different."

Dropping in the cups, I shrug.

"Just taking it all in, I guess."

Mom nods, helping me gather the loose napkins.

"Sometimes things just fall into place, Spence. It's okay to just, enjoy things... like Ashley, and stop thinking so much, because let's be real. You've never really been a thinker, and when you set your eyes on something, you get it."

Looking over her shoulder at Ashley laughing as she sprays Kyla with water from the sink, she shakes her head. "And I'd say you found something worth going after."

I chuckle as Kyla grabs Ashley's head and holds it under the faucet, nodding.

"I know, Mom. I just want to enjoy the ride, ya know?"

Mom squeezes my shoulder and smiles.

"Well then I'd say your head is already in the right place." Placing a finger on my chest, she raises an eyebrow. "Quit using it so much and follow this instead."

Tying the trash bag shut, I grab her finger and squeeze her hand, pulling her towards the kitchen.

"You got it, chief. No more thinking." I say, immediately tripping over a step, spilling open the trash. Ashley and Kyla peek around the corner at the noise, covering their snickers with their hands.

"Maybe a little bit of thinking," she says, reaching down to pull me up by my armpits. "My graceful little princess."

* * *

><p><em>If I could be an animal, what animal would I be? It's strange how often that question comes up. Friends would always nod their head in approval when I said a bird, without hesitating, but I know they were interpreting it the wrong way. There's something about birds that just make me think. Sure, they have the cool flying thing, but it's not being able to fly that makes them so appealing. It's the way they spend their entire life with their feet barely touching the ground. Isn't that the definition of a dreamer? How else does one build their castles in the sky? To be born for the clouds, imagine what that must be like. I never wanted to be someone who stopped looking up, wishing for that freedom, and I wonder how some people do. Is it because the sun hurts their eyes? Or is learning to fly just too hard?<br>_

_Sometimes when the wind's in my hair I wonder if birds feel that and just know that's where they belong. If I could find that, I would hope my wings would be ready to stretch._

_But I guess in some cases, the fall is the best part._


	13. Chapter 13

Hey all! This is super short, but I've had zero time [because I've been trying to pass my own PT exam] to write until righttttt now. So here's a little snippet, that will hopefully include something much longer by the end of the week as I get my butt back into gear. Thanks for the reads and reviews! I'm sorry it's been so long!

* * *

><p>A few weeks later….<p>

Ashley

Sitting back in my lawn chair, I cross my legs and sigh.

Maybe I should just take the whole thing off and start over?

It's been a few weeks now since the house officially became my own and, since then, I've spent most of my time here when not at work, apart from a few nights at Kyla's before I had all the broken windows replaced, followed by a few nights here with Spencer, who slept adamantly on a couch pulled into the hallway in front of my bedroom with a tennis racket, waiting for one large raccoon that had taken up shelter in the kitchen cabinet to "make her day." She and Kyla have doubled up their workout times, which has been good and bad, since Kyla is clearly starting to slim down, but I don't get to see either of them very often, and they get to be together all the time.

Not that I'm jealous.

Much.

Although I could use some help trying to decide what to do with this front porch.

Maybe I'll call Paula.

The distant rumble of thunder blends into the whir of a vehicle driving over the hill and down the street. A car door shuts. I cross my legs the other way and sigh louder.

Maybe I could keep the roof and just replace the floor and foundation.

Tan hands come to rest on the chair arms on either side of me as Spencer chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head from behind.

"You look absolutely tormented. What are we visualizing?"

Blowing a loose curl out of my face I grumble.

"Front porch."

I smirk as Spencer's throaty chuckle moves closer to my ear, her teeth nibbling deliciously on my sensitive skin.

"I have an idea."

"What's that?" I say, tracing her long fingers wrapped loosely around the chair arm.

"Let's not do this, and do something else instead."

Raising an eyebrow, I look up at her, where she wiggles her eyebrows at me. I roll my eyes. Spencer is wonderfully affectionate with me, always, and I'm clearly the person she's interested in, but romantically, she never pushes boundaries. We function in a strange gray more than friends not quite maybe area I have come to refer to as weenie world. Which is ironic on so many levels. But all the same, neither of us have made a move out of friend neutral and it's been a few months.

"What exactly do you have in mind, Miss Carlin?"

"Ohhh I don't know," Spencer says, coming around the chair to settle into my lap. Nuzzling into my neck, she nips at my jaw, then bats her eyelashes at me. "Maybe lunch at my Mom's?"

"Hmmmm I never could say no to a blonde hair, blue-eyed lady." Spencer grins and nuzzles back into my neck. I add, "named Paula."

Laughing, she stands back up and grabs my hand, pulling me with her.

"Come on, I told her we'd be there early. She wanted to talk to you about some sun blocking curtain shade thing. I don't know."

I walk up the squeaky porch and lock the front door, then join Spencer in her Jeep, smiling like an idiot.

* * *

><p>Kyla<p>

Moving three glass stones from the jar on the left to the jar on the right on my mantle, I smile and turn towards the kitchen for some lunch. A few weeks ago Spencer showed up at my door with those vases and a devilish smile, chatting my ear off as she let herself in and placed them side by side above the fire place, while I argued for the sake of interior designers everywhere.

She said they were a gift and, now that she was going to let me weigh myself, they were also a visual reminder of how much progress I have made, and how much further I have yet to go.

So every so often Spencer shows up with a scale and we weigh me, which is awkward but whatever, it's Spencer, and then I get to take a stone for every pound I've lost and move it to the empty side. Spencer was here this morning and I lost three pounds since our last weigh in, and it feels good to be filling the empty jar. It feels good to see that even though there's still a ton left in the stone jar, the empty one is filling up. And last time, when I had to take a stone from the empty jar and put it back in the full jar, I made a promise to myself to remember what each of those stones is worth, and I worked extra hard to make sure that didn't happen again, that it won't happen again any more.

Spencer's clever like that.

She was all grins and giggles this morning so I figured she was going out to see Ashley after our session. The two of them drive me crazy, how they just shuffle around each other but never quite meet in the middle. Sara and I talk about it over lunch once a week. She says she's just given up because Spencer's convinced there will be a perfect time and she'll wait until that exact moment to make Ashley hers.

Girls.

Meanwhile it's so clearly obvious that Ashley is head over heels for the girl it's almost sickening. She was telling me some story about Spencer chasing some animal with a bat or something and yelling in German and how she didn't know Spencer spoke German so she mentioned it and Spencer said it was because she wanted to be able to frighten her kids. And Ashley swooned over that, I could hear it over the phone.

Seriously. Girls.

It's been two months since I started working out with Spencer and I've lost almost thirty pounds, which Spence says isn't unusual but I won't lose as much as easily as my weight gets lower. My clothes are starting to hang off me, and that makes me smile.

Cutting the tomato for my salad, the phone rings, and I hum quietly as I dry my hands and reach for the cordless.

"Hello?"

"Kyla? It's your Mom."

I choke for a minute on my own spit.

"Mom? I… How'd you get this number?"

Mom quietly clears her throat, and continues.

"I called your Father for it. I wouldn't have bothered you, it's just, well, it's kind of an emergency."

"What happened? Is it Grandma and Grandpa? Are they okay?"

I fold down onto the kitchen linoleum, my memory flashing kind wrinkled hands, my Grandpa's booming laugh.

"No, no, they're okay, don't worry. It's me Kyla. I... need a kidney transplant. And you're a perfect match."

The images change from Grandma's Sunday dinners to my Mom, combing through my wet hair when I was little; kissing my forehead as I leave for my Junior High Dance; yelling into the sky as she pulled a sobbing Ashley into a cab for the airport. My Dad called Ashley at least once a week but I haven't heard a single breath from my Mom in over five years. What kind of Mother does that?

"Kyla?"

I sigh and rub my head.

"I gotta go, Mom. It was nice hearing from you."

The end call button clicks under my thumb as the first tear slides down my cheek.


	14. Chapter 14

Hello All.

I passed!

That is all. :)

* * *

><p>Spencer<p>

Ashley munches thoughtfully on a carrot as my Mom shoves yet another fabric swatch in front of her face.

"See if you went with the deep maroon then this fabric would be a nice compliment for the sofa, and these would be great texture pieces for the pillows, and then we can pull in some of these…" she says, shuffling for some weird greenish pile, "to really pop color!"

Ashley scrunches her eyebrows together adorably, smiles at Mom and then looks at me pleadingly. I chuckle.

"Mom, why don't you let Ashley think on it for a little while. I mean she just picked up the paint. We'll paint the room tonight and then she'll have a better feel for the color, you know?"

Ashley nods resolutely at Mom, who nods and picks up Ashley's plate, crunching into the last carrot as she turns towards the kitchen.

"You just look over that stuff, Ash. We'll talk about it some more at family lunch next Sunday. Ooo maybe by then I'll have some rough illustrations worked up!" She adds with a giggle, swinging through the kitchen door.

I move towards Ashley, pulling the fabric out of her hands as she stares at me with scared eyes.

"Next Sunday? Illustrations?"

"Come on," I tug at her, whispering. "We can make a clean break while she's not looking."

"I heard that!" Mom yells from the kitchen. "Don't you leave without leftovers, Spencer Carlin! Or else!"

Rolling my eyes, Ashley chuckles and reaches for her cell phone as it vibrates across the table top.

"What up Ky."

I gather up all Mom's fabric samples and stuff them on a chair in the corner, resetting the dining room table with a flower centerpiece as Kyla chatters quietly.

"Alright breakfast, I got it. Are you sure you're okay?"

Glancing at her, Ashley shrugs her shoulders at me then pats her knee for me to sit down.

"Well if you need anything I can come over Kyla, just let me know. Alright. Love you, too." Closing her cell, she sets it on the table and stares at it.

"Well that was weird."

"What's that?" I say, sweeping a curl behind her ear.

"Kyla just wants to meet for breakfast, but she sounded like she was upset." Kissing the back of my shoulder, she moves to stand, pushing me up.

"Maybe she's stressed about work?" I grab our cell phones and slide them into her jacket pocket, giving her middle a squeeze.

She shrugs with a half smile.

"I guess I'll find out tomorrow. Now let's go help your Mom so I can get your ass to work at my house."

"God it's so hard not to swoon over your poetic words."

She adds a firm grab to my rear as she slips by me, pushing through the kitchen door with a wink.

* * *

><p>Ashley<p>

"You're sure this isn't a little too…intense… for a relaxation room, Ash?"

I pause and blow the bangs out of my face. I mean, can you go wrong with green?

"I kind of like it."

"I feel like I'm in a green screen. Literally inside of it."

Spencer falls quiet in her corner of the room as a roll another strip of "Green with Envy" onto the opposite wall of the library.

"Yep, I think my retinas are shutting down. I'm so young, and so blind."

I chuckle at her mumbles. Her outlining the room while I rolled the paint on seemed like a good idea up until we actually started. Painting. Not her favorite. Check.

"Hey Spencer are you getting hungry?" I ask, leaning against my roller extension as I smirk at her, a green streak of paint smudged from her temple to her set jaw. She raises an eyebrow at me. My insides quiver.

"What's that face, Miss Davies."

"Oh nothing," I slide my roller back and forth in the pan as she studies me. I add the last bit of paint to the fireplace wall, finishing this side of the room with the added burn of Spencer's eyes boring into my back.

"It didn't look like nothing," she breathes against my neck. I jump, splattering paint on both of us, as she runs her nose down to my shoulder and presses a kiss there with a laugh.

"Jesus, you scared me."

She takes the roller out of my hand, dropping it to the plastic on the floor and gives my pony tail a tug, grinning.

"You're cute."

Slipping away from her closing arms, I chuckle as she pouts.

"And you're avoiding. I'm gonna order in some dinner. No food until your wall is outlined!"

I hear her groan as she heads back to her paint brush, smirking to myself as I grab the phone book to find a good Chinese place. I rarely order Chinese because even though Spencer loves it, it's an ocean of inner turmoil for her to eat fried foods. I can't even watch her eat, she looks so torn up about it. After ten minutes of listening to the guy try to tell me the whole menu, I just order every steamed item, tell him the address, and slip the phone back on its console.

"I swear," I start, rounding the corner out of the living room to go back into the library. "I know you love Chinese but it takes forever to order…" Stopping inside the door frame, I gasp, then mute my laughter with the palm of my hand.

Spencer is snoring quietly, seated with her back against the wall, her knees pulled tight up to her chest. Her shoulders rise and fall slowly, her head dipped down against her knees. Above her, splayed across the wall in generous green strokes, her words run and seep together, little green streaks extending from the bottom of fresh letters, reaching towards the floor like little roots settling in the ground.

_Say you'll be my one and only._

Slipping out my cell phone, I take a picture, my heart warming with the gesture, then creep back out the door to let her sleep.

After the food arrives, I set the table and go back into the library, where Spencer has fallen from her sitting position into a sprawled pile on the floor. Lying down beside her, I slip my arm under her head and cuddle into her, enjoying the comfort of her tired body against my own. She hums quietly against my skin, murmuring as she wraps her arm around my waist.

"Spencer, honey."  
>"Mmmm."<p>

"I set out dinner, babe. It's time to wake up."

Tugging me closer, Spencer whines as I pull away, so I kiss the tip of her nose.

"I'll see you in the kitchen." I add. She opens one eye as I get up and, spotting the paintbrush next to her head, seems to realize what she was doing before her impromptu nap.

"Wait!" She says, jumping up from the floor to follow after me. "Ashley, I…"

"Spence."

She stops as she catches the look on my face. I point behind her with a nod and she turns around slowly, taking in the addition to her art work. When she turns back to me, her eyes are gleaming. Scrawled underneath her writing in a blue I had saved for my bedroom, the drips and runs of my words intermingle with the green trails of her own.

_until the very end._

Her smile lights up the room as she rushes forward, spinning me around in a tight tug.

"That's a good start." She says, setting me down and reaching for my hand. As our fingers intertwine, I kiss the back of her palm, then her lips, lingering deliciously.

Resting her forehead against mine, she sighs.

"That's a really good start."

* * *

><p>Kyla<p>

The minute she walked into the diner. I knew.

"Hi." She says, sliding into the booth behind her glass of water. She always drank water. "How are you today?"

I stare at her. The way her brown eyes glow. The smile I haven't seen in years. The hesitant eyebrow raise she always gives when she's waiting for the right moment to talk. I watch her as she wraps her mouth around her straw, watching me.

I pinch her straw shut.

"You and Spencer are TOGETHER!"

Ashley dawns the same goofy smile as she pulls a menu up in front of it.

"Oh my gosh did you SLEEP with my trainer! No don't tell me. Tell me, I wanna know! NO! DON'T DO IT!"

Ashley chuckles and smacks my arm with the menu with a disgusted grimace.

"God Kyla, we're taking it slow. And I wouldn't tell you anyway that's gross."

Shaking my head I sip at my own drink and watch her study her menu.

"Well it's about damn time, you chicken shit."

"Thanks for the support, loving sister of mine." She adds, patting my hand. Her eyebrows knit together in concern. "So what's new with you? Don't think I didn't know you were upset yesterday."

I shuffle my drink side to side in my hands.

"Mom called me."

Ashley chokes on her water, spraying it across the table as she erupts into coughs. She pounds her fist on the table once as she regains her breath.

"Did you tell her to find a bridge and jump off it? Why the HELL would she call?"

Running my hands through my hair, I shrug.

"She needs a kidney. She wants mine."

Ashley barks a loud laugh and pulls a menu back in front of her face.

"Isn't that rich. Well, sorry Momsies, karma can be a bitch. Do they have good pancakes here?"

"Ashley." I say, pulling the menu down from her face. "She's still our Mother."

She scoffs, throwing the menu over her shoulder into the next booth.

"A Mother doesn't abandon or separate her children. It's a kidney, Kyla. A kidney. Not like.. a pair of socks or something." She points at me, her eyes searching my own. "If this is something you have to do then fine. I will go with you, and for you only. Got it?"

I nod, wrapping her finger with my hand. "Got it."

Sighing, she steals her finger from mine and taps absentmindedly on the table. "So for real, do they have good pancakes here?"

"Can't get pancakes," I say, flagging down the waitress. "Your girlfriend's a trainer. Those will go straight to your hips."

Realization dawns across Ashley's face as the waitress asks for our orders.

I chuckle, ordering an egg white omelet with a side of fruit.

Ashley swigs her water and grimaces.

"I'll have the same."

* * *

><p>Sara<p>

I toss my keys into the bowl at Spencer's front door as I make my way down the hall and towards her bedroom. Pushing her door open a crack, I peek in and laugh. Spencer's pony tail sticks up out of a mass of blankets, the only proof that a person is actually in there, somewhere.

"Spencer."

It's been forever since I've gotten to see my favorite friend, so I can't help but be a little excited to have snuck away from the kids for a little bit to catch up.

"Spence."

I tip toe closer, whispering a little louder from the foot of the bed.

"Spencey-bear?"

A single leg stretches, a set of five toes peeking out from under the comforter. Slipping off my shoes, I set my purse down on the floor, squat down, and jump, landing spread eagle on the mass of bedding in front of me.

"Boo bear! Good morning!"

From somewhere in the fabric, she stirs.

"I will destroy you."

"I brought breakfast."

Shifting, Spencer unwraps her head from the blanket, rubbing a sleepy eye.

"You may stay. Hello friend."

Smiling, I push Spencer's bangs away from her face and cuddle down into her blankets with her.

"Hello friend. I haven't seen you in days. Days!"

Wrapping an arm around my waist, Spencer yawns and nuzzles into my armpit.

"Keep bringing me breakfast and that will change dramatically."

I chuckle, running my fingers through her ratty ponytail.

"So in our time apart has wearing paint on your face become popular? If so, consider this my two cents. It's not working for you."

Spencer lifts her head and blushes, reaching up to touch the crusty green streak on her cheek.

"Ashley, I presume."

She nods, sighing as she flips over onto her back.

"Yeah I helped her paint. Although, I don't really call her Ashley anymore. These days I like to call her my girlfriend." She grins, bright blue eyes meeting mine. I laugh as she kicks the blanket into the air, yelling.

"Ashley Davies is my girlfriend!"

"Seriously you have problems."

"You know," she says, thoughtfully stroking her chin. "I always said, that Julie Andrews must really love her some music to run, I mean actually run, of all things, up and down hills while singing at the top of her lungs. Who does that? But I kind of get it."

I stare at her blankly, then get out of the bed.

"I worry about your mental stability."

"I worry about you forgetting syrup for my breakfast."

"If you ever yell like that again it will be too soon."

Spencer stands and stretches, walking towards her window to raise the shade, then the window itself.

"Well, I'm excited. But I think we should really discuss the significance of this like adults."

"Let's." I say, eyeing her warily. Matching my look, she sits on the window sill, then leans out, holding tight to the wall as she bellows into the neighborhood.

"ASHLEY DAVIES IS MY GIRLFRIEND!" A cheer sounds from across the street. A car beeps as it goes by.

"Oh for goodness sake Spencer get your head inside."

"Thank you sir! I like her very much!" She adds, parade waving as I yank her shoulders back into her bedroom.

"Well at least I took it outside." She huffs, standing to follow me as I exit her room for the kitchen shaking my head.

"I swear you're like my third child."

Smiling proudly, she tugs on her tank top as I slip multigrain French toast onto a plate for her.

"Thanks Mom."

I kiss the top of her head and pat her butt as she turns to the living room, probably to turn on cartoons.

"Yeah, yeah. You better be good to her."

They just grow up so fast.


	15. Chapter 15

Hello my darlings. I'd apologize for being ridiculously long since my update again, but you've probably settled into accepting that I'll never update, so instead I say SURPRISE! IT'S FOR YOU!

This one goes to my constant reviewers and the reason I feel so guilty about being terribly unorganized. Ashleys27 and tanner12, I hope you're having a great day :)

Now back to the story...

* * *

><p>Kyla<p>

Exhaling into my cupped palms, I groan, sliding my hands up and down my exposed arms. The clinic did a great job of decorating with strategic warmth, but the actual temperature left a lot to be desired. Shifting in the chair, I cross my legs, trying to conserve body heat while wishing I'd have at least brought my suit jacket from the car.

Really, I could tell myself all day that the fidgeting was from the cold, but deep down the doctor's appointment ticking slowly towards me has got my muscles in knots: my first face to face with my Mother. The image of her dragging a hysteric Ashley by the hair into the back of a cab has been the immediate recall i had of her for years now. Why did I even come? It's not like I owed the woman anything. But deep down in my bones I can't deny that this feels right, that maybe I was meant to do this, even from the day I was born.

Sighing, I glance up at the clock as the hands sweep past noon and chuckle. Late again. Maybe some people never change.

The booming, high pitched laughter of my Mother arrives before she does. It steals my breath away, the closeness of her, the memories it rekindles, as the sound of her and the doctor chatting like old friends echoes outside the door. I smooth out my skirt and clear my throat as the door opens.

She is more haggard than I remember, but her eyes are steely, reminiscent of the youth she is clinging to, even as disrepair creeps into her features. She's still beautiful, still carries herself with unwavering confidence, one of the few traits Ashley had inherited from her, but something in her smile, in the way the corners twitch up immediately as her gaze falls on me, is completely new. There's a warmth in her that wasn't there before, captured in the small sterile space as the doctor closes the door behind them.

"Kyla, darling."

I am suddenly hyper aware of my awkward position, mouth gaping, fingers knotted in the hem of my skirt. Patting down the black fabric, I close my mouth and nod in recognition.

"Mother."

Her smiles widens, even with my little effort, as her eyes scan me from top to bottom. Do I look okay in this? Is she ashamed of how I've let myself go? I know she hasn't seen me since I was in high school and 115 pounds soaking wet.

You've been through a lot, Kyla, and you're a strong and bright young woman. It doesn't matter what she thinks.

I clear my throat again as the silence in the room bears towards awkward. The doctor is watching us as my Mother watches me and I mostly just look at the clock and spin my bracelet.

"Oh Kyla, you've grown so much."

For a second I think it's a dig, but as I turn back to my Mother's face, I notice the tears in her eyes and the worries in my chest disappear. When she reaches for my fingers as she settles into the seat next to mine, I let her take them, smiling shyly as she wraps her second hand around mine as if clinging to a life preserver. I guess, in a way, she is.

"You're beautiful, my baby."

"Thanks Mom." I say, giving her hands a squeeze. The doctor taps a stack of papers together on his desk, then folds his fingers together and smiles at us, reminding me of the last time I sat on this side of a desk, meeting Spencer. My how things have changed since then.

"So, doc," I start. "What's the good news?"

"Well," he says, placing a pair of reading glasses upon his nose as he shuffles through a folder. "The good news is you are a definite match to your Mother and your kidney is healthy and ready for transplant. You should recover just fine and live perfectly normal with the single kidney you will retain."

Mom pats the top of my hand, and turns back to the doctor as he pulls out another chart and points to it.

"The bad news, however, is this. If you look at this comparison chart, the red dots mark normal kidney activity in a healthy forty-something woman. Christine, your activity is marked by the blue dots, which as you can see, are much, much lower than we'd like to have them."

Clipping the chart to a clipboard, he sets it back on his desk and looks up at the two women.

"Now I know when we first spoke I had projected that you would have about three months until the surgery. But with this new information, I feel it is in our best interest to bump the surgery up, and make it in one month instead. I'm afraid your kidneys will begin to fail at about 6 weeks if we don't."

Mom visibly swallows, nodding her head as she crosses her legs.

"And you're positive that doing this isn't going to hurt Kyla's future in any way?"

I glance at her, as awful as it is, surprised by her concern for my well being.

"I'm absolutely certain. If the surgery goes as planned, there should be no physical damage to Kyla or her future whatsoever."

My eyebrows perk up at his choice of words.

"So there's a chance that the surgery could go wrong?"

"Honestly, Kyla, this procedure is standard these days. There's always a chance of complications, of course, but they are few and far between with the technology we use now. As long as you and your Mother prep as directed, everything should go smoothly, and you'll be out and back to work before you know it."

I nod, satisfied, as Mom lets go of my hand to reach for a pile of papers the doctor hands her; one for her, and one for me.

"Well ladies, if there are no more questions, that's all we need for today. Read over these and I will call you a week prior to surgery to review your individual prep schedules."

"Thanks doctor," Mom says, reaching for her bag on the floor. I stand and shake his hand, then move to hold the door open for Mom as she slips out into the office hall. Shutting the door behind me, I stop as I feel firm fingers wrap around my wrist.

"Thank you, Kyla."

"Oh, it's no problem." I say, shrugging as I start to walk away.

"No." She continues, holding me in place. "Not for holding the door. Thank you for doing this for me, even though I've done so little for you." Her voice, barely above a whisper, hits me in the face like a cannon in the quiet hallway. Her eyes burn into mine, brimming with sincerity.

"I want you to know that you don't have to do this. I would never make you. And I appreciate that you even came here today to meet me. You're one thousand times the person I could ever hope to be and, I'm just…so proud. So thank you. For everything."

It's strange when it finally happens, the moment you've been dreaming and re-dreaming for years. I had imagined hundreds of reactions to an apology from my Mother, but all those day dreams didn't really matter. The instinct in the moment, drowning in all the words I'd waited so long to hear, is natural. As she watches me with tear stained cheeks, I lean into her, wrapping my arms around her waist. The sharp angles and jaunting bones on her lean frame are new, but the smell, the smell of her is everything I remember, and I take a moment to breathe her in, to burn this memory over all the bad one's I hope to replace.

Pulling back, I give her a half smile.

"I know our path has been rough, and, honestly, I wasn't sure how today would go. But I'm glad I came and I hope more than anything that this can be a new beginning for us, Mom. I really do."

She squeezes my hands tight in her own and nods.

"I sure hope Ashley is as understanding as you."

I chuckle, turning towards the lobby.

"Not a chance in hell."

Her hiccuping laughter brightens my smile as she wraps an arm around my waist, walking beside me.

"Somehow I knew that. How about some lunch? It's well past time I caught up on your life."

Leaning my head onto her shoulder, I sigh.

"That would be fantastic."

Lose a kidney, gain a Mom? I'd take that trade any day.

* * *

><p>"So is it like Weight Watcher's? I've done that before."<p>

I shift the salad with my fork, looking for a tomato.

"I mean there's a definite nutrition side to it, but a personal trainer is more of the exercise portion. So like she plans my workouts and motivates me and stuff. If you asked her about nutrition she'd just give a long winded monologue about how beans are the bee's knees, or something."

"Hm," Mom says, sipping her soup. "Well it sounds like this Spencer has really gotten under your skin. I'm proud of you for working so hard, darling."

"Yeah well, my skin's not the only one Spencer's gotten under." I stop and smile at her, trying to cover my little blunder. It's a little overwhelming having all this positive reinforcement sent to me over the table throughout lunch, but I don't want to give her anything about Ashley, though she is different. She likes my job, my hobbies, my personal trainer. It's like a light switch, the Mom she was versus new Mom 2.0.

"Oh yeah? Is Ashley using her too?"

Chuckling, I shake my head.

"Something like that."

Mom goes on eating her soup.

"Well, good. I'm glad you girls have stuck together. A sister bond should never be broken."

"I don't think we'll have to worry," I say, placing my napkin on the table as I glance around the rather empty café. Lunch time had come and gone as Mom and I sat here drinking each other in, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon outside on the patio.

"Well," I say, checking my watch. "Speaking of, I actually have to get going to my afternoon session with Spence, but I would love to see you again soon. You have my cell number, right?"

Mom nods, placing her spoon in her bowl, and standing as I gather my things.

"I do, and I'll use it often, but not too often!" She adds, laughing. "But often all the same."

Wrapping me in another boney hug, I kiss her cheek fondly.

"Don't be long, Mom."

She smirks at the phrase, an expression she often used instead of goodbye when we were younger, saying goodbye made her feel like we wouldn't come back to her again. Perhaps I shouldn't have, but it seemed fitting, even if she'd only regained one of her daughters today.

"Soon, darling. Soon."

* * *

><p>"Kyla get your knees up. Where's your head at today?"<p>

I grunt in frustration, cranking up my knees to hit Spencer's waiting hands as I jog in place. Talk about a rollercoaster: super awesome lunch into horrible, horrible workout.

"Thirty more seconds, push it girl. You're almost there."

Gritting my teeth, I ignore the pain in the back of my thighs, focusing on the slap of my skin against Spencer's palm. When she finally introduced interval training into my conditioning, I was excited because she always talks about how it's the best way to slim down quickly. Then we started it, and I became a lot less excited.

"Okay two minutes rest. Drink this." She adds, pushing a sports drink into my hand. I gasp for air, sipping slowly.

"You feel okay?" Spencer says, concern across her face. I love hate her. Love because she's still Spencer, and I know she knows how this must hurt because she's never this much of a weenie. Hate because she's in full bore nazi mode the minute that stop watch comes out.

I despise that stopwatch.

Nodding, I cap the bottle and do a quick leg stretch as my rest ticks away.

"Alright, burpees with pushups. Fifty seconds on, ten seconds off. Go."

I push through the workout for another fifteen minutes, drained by the end of the session, sitting in more or less a puddle of my own sweat in the middle of the gym floor.

Spencer smiles as she strides back from the towel rack, tossing one to me and folding Indian style on the floor, her knees pressing into mine.

"Hello friend."

Wiping my face, I grimace as she chuckles.

"You did well today, oh ye of little words."

"Thanks." I grumble, wrapping the towel around my shoulders as I lean back on the floor. "I swear you're trying to kill me some days."

"Who told you!?" She gasps, whipping her head towards me with a playful expression. "God, Maybe has the biggest mouth ever, I swear."

Rolling my eyes, I watch her as she watches me.

"Did you have a good day?"

"I did," she says, playing with her shoelaces. Obvious sign number one that she has been with Ashley. "Did you?"

I nod, "yeah it was pretty excellent actually. What did you do?"

She blushes. Obvious sign number two that she has been with Ashley.

"Oh just hung out around the house. I didn't have a morning session today, so it's been kind of like a day off."

"I'm glad to see you take me so seriously."

She laughs, swatting my knee. "Hush. What did you do today?"

"I met up with my Mom."

Spencer stops laughing, staring at me.

"Your Mom?"

"Yes ma'm."

"I'm going to bombard you with a series of questions now. Are you ready?"

I wipe my face again with the towel, then rest my elbows on my knees, my chin on my hands.

"Let's have them."

Spencer inhales dramatically.

"How did that happen? Where did you guys meet? What did you do? How was she? I thought it was all you and Ashley versus the world? Did she call you or did you call her? Do I need to beat her up? Does she have brown hair? How does she feel about pepperoni?"

As I answer the questions, I tick them off on my fingers, Spencer easing forward with rapt attention.

"She called me a few days ago, and I met her today for an appointment. We went to lunch after and it was quite enjoyable. She apologized to me and I feel good about the whole situation... And she does have brown hair... And I have no idea what her preference is in regards to pizza toppings."

Spencer nods slowly, watching me with wary eyes.

"Well, first of all, find out about the pepperoni. Muy importante. Also, don't think I didn't notice the way you skimmed over the appointment slash entire reason behind your meeting. I midnight as a spy. I notice things. So, details. Spill."

I sigh, unsure how exactly to handle this situation which I'd worked hard to avoid since that phone call.

"I'm kind of, sort of, in a very permanent way, giving my Mom one of my kidneys."

Spencer's eyes widen as her hand comes to her mouth in surprise.

"Kyla May."

"My middle name isn't May, Spencer."

She pats my hand, warmly, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Kyla May, that is a very noble thing you're doing. I mean, a kidney! And to your Mom! I just, man," she sighs, exasperated. "I can't even wrap my brain around all the feelings you must have inside of you right now."

I give an exasperated nod.

"Between all of my emotions, all the one's my Mom fired at me today, and all the one's I know Ashley is stewing over, honestly I'm just exhausted. I can't keep up with it all."

Spencer gives my knee an understanding squeeze.

"Well then don't worry about those two and focus on you. Make sure this is right for you for the right reasons, and when you come to that, you'll find your peace."

I consider her words and how, yet again, she always seems to know exactly what I need to hear.

"I know. The surgery is scheduled for a month from now. By then, I'll be ready."

Spencer clucks her tongue, standing up to grab the notebook she keeps on me, _Kyla _scrawled in scratchy chicken writing across the front, a doodled duck in a cape holding a piece of pie under it.

"Don't 'be ready,'" she says, "be right. There's a big difference. Now, as for your workouts, this will change things. We'll keep on with our normal schedule for about three weeks, but the week before your surgery we'll go straight to recovery workouts and not strain you much. I want your body to be well rested and in good condition for the transplant procedure." She continues, back to business as she scribbles notes down. "We'll also probably have your diet readjusted. It'll be really important for you to stay hydrated, for both you and your Mother's sake."

I stand up, straightening my pony tail.

"Okay. Just let me know what I need to do, and between you and the doctor and my family and me and work, I just… I'll figure it out."

Spencer slaps the book shut, tossing it onto the floor. She spreads her arms wide, a big smile on her face.

"You bring it in here."

"I'm soaked in sweat, Spencer. No way."

She edges towards me.

"Somebody needs a hug."

"Spencer."

Sighing, I stand perfectly still as she slowly wraps her arms around me, squeezing me until my feet lift off the floor.

"There. I got you, Kyla. You don't have to do this alone." She adds, eyeing me as she reaches to squeeze my hand. "You don't ever have to be alone, okay?"

"I know, Spence… and I appreciate it."

Nodding, she turns away, reaching to gather the notebook and stuff it back in her bag.

"Hey, Ky?"

"Hm?"

"What's your favorite season?"

I look at her, confused.

"Uhh I guess Spring. I like flowers. You?"

"Oh, I like Fall. Football, duh. So, by spring you mean like March. Or April?"

"Probably May since that's when the flowers bloom."

Spencer shrugs her bag over her head, reaching to grab mine as I flip the dirty towel into the wash bin.

"May, you say?"

"Yeah," I grab my bag from her and push open the gym door. "I like it."

"Well if you like it then it's settled," she says, breaking away from me to head towards her office. "See you tomorrow, Kyla May."

Some days I just have to shake my head.

* * *

><p>Spencer<p>

"So, this Kyla thing doesn't bug you?" I ask, spooning tuna salad on top of the lettuce spread on our two plates. Ashley sighs, shrugs, and adds bananas to the bowl of fruit.

"I mean I don't like it and I don't trust that woman any farther than I could throw her, but Kyla seems pretty sure of her decision and it's her kidney, so the least I can do is be supportive."

Nodding, I carry the plates to the table, kicking aside some plastic sheeting left on the floor from painting as she grabs a couple waters out of the fridge.

"How very big sisterly of you. It's got to be lonely, all the way at the top of the awesome people who donate their organs to life-crushing soap opera Moms of the past list." Ashley chuckles and pulls her hair up on her head in a sloppy bun, sitting in the chair across from me.

"I wouldn't know. I'm just worried Kyla is going to end up disappointed by the end of this. Mom can be very persuasive when she wants."

I nod, sipping at my water thoughtfully. By the way Kyla described her Mother's actions when I talked to her on the phone driving to Ashley's, she sounded like the threat of death kind of knocked some sense into her. Of course I know nothing of the woman outside of the description Ashley gave me, which made her sound gorgeous, if you're into the whole laser eyes and horns thing. Slipping my fingers into hers on top the table, I smile.

"It's gonna be okay, however it turns out. The three of us, we'll take care of each other." Ashley nods, squeezing my hand, as she forks a hesitant bite of food into her mouth. She's coming around to my healthy cooking, mostly because I do a lot of it and give her absolutely no choice. Groaning in satisfaction, she shovels more in.

"Are there peas in this? God, this is amazing!"

Laughing, I give her hand a pat and pull back, digging into my own dinner.

* * *

><p>Ashley<p>

The days until Kyla's surgery fly by. Between her busy hours at work prepping for missed time and the few major projects at the house I tried to squeeze in before she stays to recover, we barely saw each other, and suddenly it was down to the week of the operation. Closing my car door, I pad across the parking lot, taking the stairs two at a time until I find myself knocking outside her door.

"Hey!" She says with a blinding smile, yanking the door open and pulling me in behind it. "I was hoping you'd show up today. Let me show you some of the new clothes I bought!"

I laugh as she literally skips down the hall to her room. Her training with Spencer has really started to show. She hit the fifty pounds lost mark at the end of last week and it's easy to see in the light curve of her hips, the square definition in her shoulders. She looks good and apparently feels good, as she's pretty much bubbled over on the phone the last couple of days I spoke to her. Mimicking her tone, I chase after her.

"Um YES! I thought you'd never ask!"

Her room is a disaster yet again, this time with bags of new clothes across the bed, and bags of stuff to be donated lining the wall. I beam in pride.

"Kyla you're getting rid of all those! That's awesome!" I add, pulling her into a hug.

She smiles.

"It is isn't it? Now look at all this!"

We oo and ahh together over the floral prints and smooth fabric of her new sundresses, giggling and chatting away like we're picking out first day of school outfits so very long ago. I sigh as I fall onto her bed, having just finished hanging all her purchases. She collapses beside me, her hair splayed out around her face.

"So you gonna be ready to take me in when I come out of the hospital?"

"Of course," I say, picking at a string on the bed spread. "Spencer's at the house now doing last minute stuff. I'm very excited for you to come."

She turns to face me, rolling onto her side.

"I'm nervous," she adds, whispering like it's a secret for only me. I reach for her hand and squeeze it.

"I am too."

"Have you talked to Mom at all?"

I shrug, playing with her fingernails.

"She's called a couple times but I was pretty rude. I'm not as forgiving as you, Ky."

She nods, watching my fingers on hers.

"You know if there ever was a time for forgiveness, it's probably now."

Resting my hand, I flip over on my back and sigh.

"I suppose so."

"Good," Kyla, says, patting my stomach.

"I just have a bad feeling, ya know."

"Oh I know," she says, turning onto her back as well. We both stare at the ceiling, looking for some answers. "I know.

* * *

><p>"Hey It's the big Mr. T! How you big boy? How you?" I ruffle his ears, darting side to side as he pounces around at my feet barking happily. He sits, wagging his tail as I toss my keys on the side table and give his head a pat. "Where's your Mama, buddy?"<p>

I chuckle as he takes off, peeling around the first corner on the wood floor. Bedroom, check. As I make my way through the house I shake my head, picking up every article and item Spencer brought with her and setting them in a pile in the living room chair. She's a total slob, but it's kind of adorable, the way she's so focused she doesn't even know she's leaving a trail of belongings behind her on direct route to her objective. Sure enough, I find her in my bedroom, perched on a step stool, biting her bottom lip as she adjusts the curtain she's hung so that it's straight. My heart warms at the sight of her, the way her bangs fall into her eyes because she hasn't gotten them cut in weeks, the red scratch marks on her legs from her last brawl with Tiggs leading all the way up to her black booty shorts, so covered in paint from our projects that the word's_ Come and Get It _are barely visible across her backside. Slipping off my shoes, I make my way into the room quietly as she leans back to survey her work.

"Got ya!" I yell, ripping her off the stool by her waist and tossing her on the bed. Jumping on top of her, she screams in surprise, almost karate chopping me into paralysis, then realizes who it is and actually fights harder. Her laughter fills the room as I bat her hands away, tickling her sides and straddling her hips with my own.

"Your effort is futile! You cannot beat the great one!"

She simmers into chuckling as I finally catch her wrists, pinning each above her head. I grin proudly.

"Told you."

"I could break you with one hand right now, Miss Davies."

I laugh dramatically, throwing my head back, then lean closer, inches from her face.

"Even when trapped in the jaws of death, young Spencer struggles blindly with ornate over confidence."

She chuckles and lifts her head up to nuzzle her nose against my cheek, feathering a light kiss at the top of my jaw. It never fails to make me blush, how soft she is with me when she's so strong in front of everyone else. This side of Spencer is all mine.

"Did you have a good day?" She says into my hair as I bring my head down to rest on her chest, still pinning her to the mattress.

"I did. I went and saw Kyla for a while after work. It's weird to think she's going under the knife in a few days."

I hear the murmur of agreement echo under my ear, her heart beating resolutely against my cheek.

"You think she's ready?"

I nod, lifting my head to look her in the face.

"Yeah I think so. Am I? Well, that's another question completely." She raises an eyebrow and I continue. "I guess I'm just worried I'll go from having a sister and Mom to having neither. And I think maybe I should try to clear the air with Mom, even though I'm definitely not ready for that yet. But just in case, you know?"

Spencer watches me for a moment, then slips her hands down to grab mine from her wrists.

"I think that's wonderful, Ash. I'm sure it'll be okay, but you never do know."

I nod, exhaling some of the stress I'd been carrying over that decision as Spencer wraps both our arms, hands still interlaced, over the small of my back and kisses my forehead.

"You're a good person."

I smile at her cute expression and nip her nose.

"You're a great person."

She chuckles, then flips us in one smooth motion, burying me in the comforter as she smirks down over me, my arms crossed and held down by her hand on my chest. My smile switches to a frown immediately as she pats the side of my cheek.

"Told you. One hand."

Laughing, she jumps off and runs out of the room, her arms pumping in victory above her head as she hoots for Mr. Tiggs to join her in the champion's ring.

I swear she'll never let me beat her.

But really, listening to her and the dog sing and bark 'Who Let the Dog's Out?' as I pull myself up out of bed, I know I've already won.

* * *

><p><em>SMC 315/12_

_I think a lot about moments: how many we have here, and how we spend them; how they change us whether we like it or not. The ones that sky rocket us into the air and beyond the stars are wonderful, of course, but the ones that send us crashing into dismay, into brutal heartache, those are the ones I want. A life of tragedy? People would laugh. But to feel so greatly about something that the idea of losing it literally ceases the air in your chest, how could you not want that? I want to love so fully that magic happens, so utterly that in losing it, I lose myself, maybe just for a moment, maybe, part of me, forever.  
><em>

_I want to feel the air on my skin and the rain on my face and the earth under my toes. And when I find fire, I want it to burn, down to my bones, deep in my soul.  
><em>


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